What in Hell
by Hoplite308
Summary: Reach has fallen. The Covenant have located Earth. Alt-Universe in which the Long Night of Solace was not destroyed by the bomb that Jorge set. Set fifty years after the events of Project Purity and includes several characters from New Vegas. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

So, here's my intro to this work-in-progress in the little-used Halo/Fallout Crossover section. I know the back-story on the Fallout Universe is a little long, but think about it: wastelanders don't stand a snowball's chance in hell against the Covenant without some boosting and organization, so I did my best to remain true to the Fallout idea and give them a realistic, not OP, boost in the way of manufacturing (modeled after the Pitt, minus slaves), reverse-engineered alien weapons (Mothership Zeta probably has engineering records and diagrams for them to study, so that's completely possible), energy shields (based on a different concept than the Covenant), more powerful weapons (thanks to manufacturing), and a population that can sustain an army large enough to give the Covenant a good fight. If you don't feel like reading it, that's fine, but it's the basis for the rest of my fanfic. And just to say this once to cover my rear, I don't own anything in this story except OM. Bethesda and Bungie, keep Fallout and Halo. I'm not saying this again.

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><p>Reach has fallen. The Covenant has amassed the largest fleet in all of recorded history for the final assault on Earth to destroy the human race. Humanity desperately scrambles to amass defenses both in space and on the ground against the seemingly unstoppable might of the Covenant, while Arbiter Thel Vadumee makes his final preparations. Little do they know that they are not the only forces at work in this universe… or the other one...<p>

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><p>Halo Weapons in Fallout stats (tell me if you disagree, and I'm going off of Halo: Reach via Halo Nation and Fallout: New Vegas via Nukapedia):<p>

Human

M6G Magnum

-DPA: 42

-DPS: 163.1

-WGT: 6.5

-Shots/Rel: 8

-Atk/Sec: 3.88

-ACC: 0.15

-Ammo Bonus: -12 DT (_semi_-armor-piercing), +2 DAM vs. non-robots (explosive)

MA37 Assault Rifle

-DPA: 40 (comparable to Automatic Rifle (Dead Money) of Fallout: New Vegas)

-DPS: 400

-WGT: 15

-Shots/Rel: 32

-Atk/Sec: 10 (pulled this straight from the wiki, don't be hatin')

-ACC: 0.09

-Ammo Bonus: 1.3xDAM, -15 DT (I agree that it seems OP in Fallout, but remember, Fallout got some upgrades, too)

M392 DMR Designated Marksman Rifle

-DPA: 55 (comparable to This Machine of Fallout: New Vegas)

-DPS: 137.5

-WGT: 10

-Shots/Rel: 15

-Atk/Sec: 2.5 (I'm choosing to make this gun a semi-auto version only so that I can accurately do damage calculation against anything from Fallout that might happen)

-ACC: 0.01

-Ammo Bonus: none

M45 TS Shotgun

-DPA: 10x15

-DPS: 135

-WGT: 7

-Shots/Rel: 6

-Atk/Sec: 0.9

-ACC: 0.9

-Ammo Bonus: none

SRS99 Sniper Rifle

-DPA: 140 (there is no bullet in Fallout nearly the size of a 14.5x114mm; .50 cal is actually significantly smaller [approximate conversion to cal: .57])

-DPS: 175

-WGT: 15

-Shots/Rel: 4

-Atk/Sec: 1.25

-ACC: 0.00001 (If it's not, it better be with all the advanced technology the UNSC has at its disposal)

-Ammo Bonus: HE: +2 DAM vs non-robots; AP: -15 DT

To be continued... [If you want to weigh in, make sure you get the caliber as close as possible to something in Fallout and estimate the weight if Halo Nation doesn't have it]

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><p>Nobel Six has been recalled from Nobel Team. He and newly-revived Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, along with a small team of Spartans known as Maverick Team, join the defense of Earth as Nobel Team assists with the evacuation. Aboard the UNSC <em>Feathersoft<em>, a stealth ship specifically designed to be all but invisible to Covenant forces, they spy on the Covenant armada preparing to launch the last leg of their genocidal campaign against the human race. But... which human race will they _really_ target?

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><p>After the successful initiation of Project Purity and elimination of the Enclave, Jacob King disappeared for a time. The Savior of the Wasteland decided that he needed to get away from the Capitol Wasteland, and so he set off for New Vegas. There, he arrived just in time to help the Courier in his successful coup against not only Mr. House and the Families Three, but the Legion and the NCR.<p>

During this time, he became good friends with Clint Thompson, now known as the all-powerful ruler of the Mojave (formerly the Courier), and was introduced to his friends at the Think Tank and the Western Brotherhood of Steel. Being a natural scientist, he made full use of the technological advances at his disposal and partnered with the Gun Runners to make the most successful weapon factory in history, eventually taking over what used to be the Tops Casino for his manufacturing. After a while, his heart turned toward home, and he returned to the Capitol Wasteland a very, very rich man.

The Capitol Wasteland, on the other hand, was not so well off. With the Super Mutants gone, deathclaws had taken over the Wasteland, overrunning everything but Rivet City. Almost everyone had taken refuge there, unable to fight the massive hoards of deathclaws that killed everything in sight. Not even the Brotherhood were immune. Jacob took it upon himself to transport hundreds of his personally-designed advanced weapons and armor to the survivors, which eventually turned the tide.

After several years of fighting, the Capitol Wasteland was almost completely free of the scourge. Several new weapons had been designed in the meantime, specifically engineered to kill deathclaws. New types of power armor or modified, older suits, impervious to deathclaw strikes and possessing none of the agility problems of the old power armor, were considered standard-issue by the guards of the new settlements. Megaton, Underworld, and Paradise Falls were re-settled and re-built to withstand attacks.

After the Capitol Wasteland united under the flag of the Eastern Republic, peace like no one had ever seen in their lifetime reigned over the otherwise barren wastes. Thanks to the common enemy presented by the deathclaws, most Raiders gave up their ways in exchange for security in Rivet City. Manufacturing created new markets for scrap metal, and Vertibirds soon began regular cargo and passenger service between the Republic and the Mojave Confederacy.

During this time, the Mojave had been busy as well. After earthquakes drove them from Eden, the Dead Horses and Sorrows had made their way to New Vegas where they sought Clint's help in finding a new home. Clint was more than willing to give it to them, and after a little negotiating he managed to convince the Great Khans to allow them to live in the nearby canyons in exchange for some of Jacob's weapons. Although relations were a little rough at first, the Khans eventually realized that these apparently "primitive" people had something to offer in the way of survival skills and tracking abilities. Not to mention their women were really easy on the eyes.

The hostile Super Mutants of Black Mountain were eventually killed off, and the friendly Super Mutants of Jacobstown became very successful in trading and offering their services as body guards and caravan guards. All seemed well until the Legion invaded again. This time they were largely successful, and might have completely succeeded in wiping out every living human in the Mojave Wasteland had it not been for the timely intervention of a lone wolf named Jackal and her yao guai named Bear. As it was, the legion leveled all of New Vegas using a left-over nuclear bomb. Fortunately, most of the citizens of New Vegas were evacuated by Vertibirds to the Capitol Wasteland, where they did their best to settle in, opening up casinos in the Capitol Building and Rivet City with some casino equipment that they had been able to save.

The Jacobstown Super Mutants found that they were somewhat unwelcome, but after Vault 101 suffered a radiation leak (Butch was the chief suspect in this, but never convicted) they took over for the displaced Vault dwellers, again opening a successful trading outpost and bodyguard service. With the help of Fawkes, they were eventually accepted by the Brotherhood of Steel. The now twice-displaced residents of Eden and the Great Khans made a home for themselves in Grayditch, along with the residents of Vault 101. The former Vault dwellers were somewhat uneasy at first, but they eventually came to realize that these strange people who showed more of their bodies than the modest vaulties would ever dare to think about showing knew how to survive, and so they started learning from each other. Both the Sorrows and the Dead Horses adopted a more modest manner of dressing that gave them better protection from the cold weather of the East Coast and somewhat resembled a combination of Raider Sadist and Blastmaster armors for the Sorrows and Raider Commando and Painspike armors for the Dead Horses. The Vault Dwellers did not turn to such measures, but they did armor their jumpsuits with pieces of leather armor and combat armor for better protection against the nasty little creatures that still roamed the Wastes.

Sometime around the year 2302, Vault 114 opened to the south of the Capitol Wasteland. This Vault was an experiment in cryogenic preservation, and it actually succeeded. For 225 years, the people of Vault 114 slept. When they awoke, they were immediately confronted with slaver gangs, only to be rescued by Jackal, Bear, and Charon, who had become good friends with Jackal. This was quite the welcome into the new world for these pre-war people who had no prior knowledge of slavers, ghouls, or yao guais. They, too, settled into Grayditch, which by this time had gotten pretty busy. A strange melting pot of vault dwellers, pre-war citizens, ex-raiders, and tribals slowly but surely grew into a large city by the standards of the Wasteland, second only to Rivet city in sheer population.

By this time, Jacob had married his childhood friend Amata and settled down in Megaton to raise their two children, James II and Sara. James followed in his father's footsteps and joined the Brotherhood of Steel when he turned 16 in 2309, while Sara turned her mind towards reverse engineering the technology behind the Zeta aliens' weapons with the help of the Think Tank, which communicated with her via video call. She enjoyed some modest success, and sold the plans for a mass-producible version of the Disintegrator Rifle to the Brotherhood of Steel for a large amount of money. James II, meanwhile, had ascended to the rank of Star Paladin and been accepted as the new leader of the Lions' Pride. Unfortunately, he was killed in a building collapse in 2315.

In 2319, Sara married the oldest son of Clint and Rose of Sharon Cassidy, Kyle Thompson, who was a Paladin in the Brotherhood of Steel and leader of a tier-1 assault squad. Kyle's younger twin brothers, Brad and Boone, also joined the Brotherhood in 2322. All three brothers were excellent shots, but in different ways. Kyle was much like his parents in that he was good with long guns, but neither Brad nor Boone could handle one and hit the broad side of a barn. Brad took to heavy energy weapons and always carried a Gatling laser with him, while Boone opted for smaller, plasma-based weapons, citing their increased damage output and higher maneuverability as reasons. Somewhere along the line, Boone got the scientist gene and started messing around with his plasma rifles. He came up with a full-auto plasma rifle that used two plasma emitters. He called it the "Green Scream." All seemed well in the Capitol Wasteland, what with the population back up to about 24% of the pre-war numbers, until one fateful day in May of 2327…

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><p>List of technology that is new or changed from cannon Fallout weapons:<p>

Medium/Large Caliber Ammo – Due to the threat of the Deathclaws, standard and hollow-point versions of ammo were discontinued. All Medium/Large Caliber Ammo is armor-piercing. This ammo is mass-produced in the Pitt.

R91 Assault Rifle – The R91 was reverse-engineered by the Gun Runners in 2285. They combined their knowledge of this rifle, the Chinese Assault Rifle, and the LMG to create the B4 Assault Rifle, which combined the DPS of the LMG, the power of the Chinese Assault Rifle, and the durability of the R91 into one rifle. They re-made this rifle into three variants: the B4-A, B4-S, and B4-L. The B4-A was equipped with a grenade launcher and boasted a laser sight on the left side. The B4-S was equipped with a select-fire trigger, long-range sights, and an extended barrel. The B4-L was made shorter than the others, blurring the line between the Assault Rifle and the SMG, and was equipped with a night-vision sight and an under-barrel shotgun.

T-45d Power Armor – The T-45d Power Armor was discontinued as the standard-issue armor of the Brotherhood of Steel in 2293 in favor of the T-51b. The T-45d is still in use among civilians, but is usually heavily up-armored.

T-51b Power Armor – The T-51d Power Armor was adopted as the standard-issue Power Armor of the Eastern Brotherhood of Steel in 2293. There are upgrades present, such as night-vision lenses, titanium plates (DT of 35 instead of 25), and upgraded servos that allow for more strength without sacrificing agility (in Fallout terms, this means that it has +2 Strength instead of +1). They are also equipped with energy shields (more on those later).

T-53a Power Armor – The T-53a Power armor is a combination of Enclave Power Armor technology and the T-51b Power Armor. In Fallout: New Vegas terms, it has a DT of 50, HP of 2500, WT of 42, Strength bonus of +2, and an RR of +35. It is equipped with night-vision. It is issued to Brotherhood VIPs and Special Forces personnel such as the Lion's Pride. Most have some form of modification, usually either more defense in the form of extra titanium/ballistic plates or built-in weapons such as Power Fists, shotguns, or bladed weapons. In addition, it carries a shield generator that allows it to absorb (not disperse) the energy from energy weapons for a total of twenty fast shots with a Plasma Rifle or over fifty fast shots with a Laser Rifle.

[Author's Note: The energy shields used by the Elites, Brutes, and Spartans use energy to disperse the unwanted energy over the entire shield (hence the glow over the whole body), and so power down with use. The energy shield used by the BoS actually absorbs the energy and stores it in its batteries, kind of like a self-powering lightning rod, if that makes any sense. The difference is, Halo shields just drop for a few seconds while BoS shields literally vent all of their electricity in a giant EMP wave frying electronics and essentially disabling the suit permanently. They can take more hits, but when they're over-taxed it's lights-out.]

Combat Armor – Adopted as the standard armor of the militias of Megaton, Grayditch, and Rivet City, the Combat Armor Reinforced, Mark II is mass-produced by the East Coast Gun Runners. Unchanged from its original form, except for different colors to signify where the wearer is from, this armor gives decent protection against both energy-based and ballistic-based weapons, able to take about two shots from a Plasma Rifle before showing a hole.

Metal Blaster – The Metal Blaster brought back from the Pitt by Jacob King was used as the base model for a new Laser Shotgun, distinctly different from the Tri-Beam Laser Rifle in that it requires no more energy than the standard Laser Rifle. This weapon was issued to the Brotherhood of Steel as an optional back-up primary weapon.

Green Scream – This is a unique variant of the Plasma Rifle created by Boone Thompson. It features two emitters side-by-side running off of the same battery firing in a chain. Each emitter is just as powerful as a normal plasma rifle, and it is fully automatic with a fire rate that is 1.9x faster than the fastest speed that someone could fire a normal plasma rifle, but it is 1.4 times heavier and uses up ammo twice as fast.

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><p>Okay, so here's how this is going to go down. I have no idea what should be happening when these two worlds meet. I just bought my first Halo game a few weeks ago. I have no idea how the weapons and armor will match up [Later Note: As you can see, I'm working on it]. That's your job. You message me with ideas about particular events that you want to see, particular weapons you want to be in here, battle plans, character names, and pretty much everything else that you want, and I'll take the best ideas and throw them into this story. I do want to put out a disclaimer, though: this is MY story made of YOUR ideas. All ideas will be credited to the user from which they came, but by submitting them to me you give me full right to use them and edit them within the context of this story. I will offer no explanation for not updating regularly. I might not respond to your messages. I will ignore all whining about "But you said that you would listen to me!" as well as any future ideas from that individual user. We're mostly adults and teens here, people. Let's try not to act like "that 12-year-old noob" that we all know and loath (no offense to any mature 12-year-old noobs that don't constantly whine about not being given free stuff on mmorpg's). I'm not trying to be "that guy" who's all legalistic about this, but I just want to cover my bases. Oh, and if you come up with any funny lines for this thing, feel free to send them, too. I always love a little humor with my blood and gore.<p>

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><p>Add-on: I'm writing the first chapter of this thing blind right now and I need some advice about where to go. What kind of story do you want? Do you want pure action, or a little romance thrown in? Do you want the spacecraft from Zeta to be destroyed or serve as a meeting ground between the BoS and the Covenant? Do you want the Sangheli to break from the Covenant like they do in the cannon universe, or do you want them to stick it out, or do you want a bigger break with the Covenant? And how do you want it to happen? Are the Forerunners in the Fallout Universe, or should I go even further back to the Precursors? And what are those Precursors like? Is the Fallout Universe within the history of the Halo Universe? (I'm aware that there was a Tier-1 Human empire prior to the flood thanks to the wikis that I am scouring for as much info as I can) Do the Covenant meet the Zeta Aliens? If so, what happens? ARE the Zeta Aliens the early Precursors? There are a lot of variables here, and I need some advice about where to take this. What can you come up with?<p>

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><p>I'm just putting this out there. This story had triple the amount of people viewing it for its first three days than my other story, Searching for an Identity, and just as many follows. When I get 100 followers, I'll be sure to throw a cookie (in the form of a really, really special chapter that I do actually have planned out) to my readers. I'm still looking for ideas, and I can't get the second chapter out without them. I did say that YOU would be writing the plot for this story, and I really don't want to release a chapter with no input of any kind. Again, feel free to give me "stupid" ideas. I love 'em!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

If you're reading this, I just want to thank you for sticking through that long intro. Sorry about that, but there's a lot that has to happen in the Fallout universe to give the wastelanders a fighting chance. Well, here's the story of how the Covenant fleet ended up in orbit around the wrong Earth. And, for the record, _Long Night of Solace_ was not destroyed by Noble Team in the Battle of Reach. The slipspace drive failed to activate when Jorge hit the button. *spoiler alert*

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Bridge

T-0:07

"Arbiter, slip-space coordinates are set for Earth."

"Very well, Shipmaster; engage slip-space drive."

"Engaging... Arbiter!" Alarms started sounding across the bridge.

"What is it Shipmaster?"

"I don't know sir, but something seems to be wrong with the slip-space drive!"

"Shipmaster! Arbiter!" called an Uggnoy from his post.

"What?!" they both answered at the same time.

"Intruders detected! Moving fast from engineering!"

"My gods…" whispered Shipmaster Jhalnee.

One of the Uggnoy jumped out of his chair and started running around in circles. "We're all gonna' die!" he shouted.

"Back to your post!" ordered Arbiter Vadumee. "Helm, abandon the jump!"

"Too late sir! We're committed!" shouted the Uggnoy.

"Escape pods off-line, sirs!"

"Slip-space portal opening… what in the name of…"

Instead of its usual friendly white circle, the portal opening was a sickly purple, crackling with electricity, and pulling the _Duty Bound_ and the rest of the Covenant fleet into its gaping maw.

"Forerunners protect us…" whispered every soul in the doomed fleet.

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><p>UNSC <em>Feathersoft<em>: Bridge

T-5:39

"Alright Maverick Team, lock and load."

_Maverick… I'll never get used to that._ Nobel Six (_No, _Maverick_ Six_), known to his friends as Jerome and his enemies as (roughly translated) Black Demon, checked his weapons again, a habit he had developed early on Reach. "Never hurts, always helps" he would say whenever anyone would tell him that he was paranoid. He pulled out the clip of his MA37, checked to make sure that there were 32 rounds inside, and slammed it back in.

He looked over at the green-armored Spartan-II sitting next to him. Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 was a picture of calm and control. If the stories were true, and he suspected they were, then that never, ever changed.

"You okay, Jerome?" He looked back at the silver and red Spartan-IV behind him, designation Maverick One.

"Never better, Cass. I'm always a little antsy before I get to kill covies."

"Good luck with that with the Chief around," joked Zurich, the heavy-weapons specialist, in his deep, Russian-accented voice. _Why are all heavy-weapons guys Russian?_ This got a chuckle out of the famous soldier.

"I'll try to leave a few for you guys. No promises, though."

This got a laugh out of everybody. "_Twenty seconds to contact_," the pilot announced.

"Let's release the panic," said Torres. With a drumming intro, one of his favorite alt-metal songs started playing over their comms.

_I don't mean to, to alarm you,_

_Can't you see that it overtakes you_

"_Docking procedure complete_"

_You're declining, disintegrating,_

"Move! Move! Move!"

_You're gonna' lose it all,_

_There's no escaping_

As the ancient guitar riffed its battle hymn, Jerome leapt out of the air-lock. He locked sights on his first target, a squad of five grunts, and mowed them down. Then the Chief was beside him, concentrating his fire on a brute while Jerome went rifle-to-rifle with an elite. Jerome swung the butt of his rifle up and caught the beast under its mandibles, but it recovered enough to throw a punch. Jerome blocked it with his fore-arm, letting the MJOLNIR Mark-V armor absorb the impact while taking the opportunity to drop his rifle and pull out his knife. He quickly stabbed the elite in the chest, draining its shield and hitting one of its two hearts. The monster staggered back a little, its discolored blood spurting all over the ground, but it roared defiantly and fired a quick burst at Jerome with its plasma rifle. His training kicked in and he dodged the blasts, rolling out of the way and over his own rifle, which he picked up. He finished off the elite, taking its semi-rare plasma rifle as a trophy.

"Jerome! Quit playing around and let's get moving!" he turned around to see Kevin, the orange-clad sniper of Maverick team out of the air-lock and motioning him down the hall. They sprinted through the cruiser, following the trail of bodies left by the others and taking out the occasional grunt that happened to be passing through. They heard the sound of gunfire and increased their speed. Jerome grabbed a couple of plasma grenades along the way.

Jerome and Kevin rounded the corner and found Maverick Team trying to gun their way through a large hanger. As they watched, a Banshee rose up, trying to get a firing angle on them, but then stopped half-way up. Jerome looked to his right to see Kevin aiming his DMR at it. "Did you just shoot the pilot without hitting the Banshee?"

"You wanna' drive?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

Jerome activated his Jet Pack and flew over to the Banshee. He opened the canopy and pulled out the late pilot. It was strange how humans could just instinctively operate any Covenant-made vehicles, but he put the thought away. Taking the alien controls, he maneuvered the fighter to the other side of the hanger, aimed, and fired at the Covenant forces, first raking the plasma blasts over the helpless ground forces then turning his cannons on the Banshees and Seraphs on the ground, putting them permanently out of commission.

He armed one of the plasma grenades that he had picked up and stuck it to the seat as he jumped out, cushioning his fall with his legs. The explosive was timed to go off the second his legs hit the ground.

"'Bout time you got here," remarked Torres.

"Well, you know me. Always taking the scenic route."

"Cortana says the slip-space drive is just down the next hallway. Let's go."

"You heard the Chiefsicle, let's move!" said Cass.

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that."

They set off at a full sprint. "Hey Chief, why isn't there an alarm going off?" asked Kevin.

"Cortana shut down their in-house communications, and we didn't exactly leave anyone alive to tell the tale."

"I noticed that," said Jerome.

Torres opened the door to the slip-space drive main control room. Jerome noticed four grunts at the controls with their backs to the door, one very bored-looking brute, and a lot of noise coming from his gun.

Then he noticed a lot of blood, organs, and body parts on the controls, one very dead-looking brute, and some smoke curling up from the end of his gun.

"That was easy," said Cass.

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Bridge

T-0:07

"Arbiter, slip-space coordinates are set for Earth."

"Very well, Shipmaster; engage slip-space drive."

"Engaging... Arbiter!" Alarms started sounding across the bridge.

"What is it Shipmaster?"

"I don't know sir, but something seems to be wrong with the slip-space drive!"

"Shipmaster! Arbiter!" called an Uggnoy from his post.

"What?!" they both answered at the same time.

"Intruders detected! Moving fast from engineering!"

"My gods…" whispered Shipmaster Jhalnee.

One of the Uggnoy jumped out of his chair and started running around in circles. "We're all gonna' die!" he shouted.

"Back to your post!" ordered Arbiter Vadumee. "Helm, abandon the jump!"

"Too late sir! We're committed!" shouted the Uggnoy.

"Escape pods off-line, sirs!"

"Slip-space portal opening… what in the name of…"

Instead of its usual friendly white circle, the portal opening was a sickly purple, crackling with electricity, and pulling the _Duty Bound_ and the rest of the Covenant fleet into its gaping maw.

"Forerunners protect us…" whispered every soul in the doomed fleet.

Except, of course, for the humans.

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><p>Well, I got impatient waiting for ideas so I went ahead and wrote the next chapter. Seriously, though, I can't keep doing this. I need input from people to make this story as good as you want it to be. So, if you have ideas, please message them to me. Like I said before, 100 follows equals a really, really special chapter. Also, how did you like the action scenes? They're actually some of the first action scenes that I've ever written, so I'm looking for some input. Are they too fast, too slow, or just right? For all you Master Chief fans out there, did I get his character right? And was my depiction of the Covenant forces accurate or nerfed?<p>

I'll be adding the Fallout universe next chapter. That's when I'm really going to need ideas.

PS: If you're looking for that song, that was Release the Panic by Red.

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><p>Okay, so it's two days after I last updated this and I can officially say that I am wowed by the number of people reading this. My "viewed" numbers jumped about 60% in two days, so thanks to everybody who read it. In case you're still wondering about how I want the ideas to come in, it's send-and-forget. You don't need to be a regular submitter, I'm just looking for input. If you had a thought while reading this, send it over. The plot is supposed to be mostly YOUR story, not mine.<p>

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><p>So, it's the same day that I posted Ch. 4 and got my first review, and I can honestly say that this is my most successful story ever. Thank you for reading this, but I'm sad to say that this will be the last Halo Chapter until the two worlds meet. As of right now, I can pretty accurately say that there will be at least three chapters of Fallout before they meet, and I just wanted to mention that your ideas are really, really needed as to how these worlds come together and which characters should make the introductions and if they should meet over bullets or a beer.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Well, it's been a month at least, but with no input I go slowly. Without further ado, heeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Fallout!

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><p>Star Paladin Kyle Thompson leaned over the map of the pre-war gas station outside of DC. A medium-sized group of raiders intent on returning to their former lives had holed up inside and Kyle's mission was rather straightforward: kill them all.<p>

Even though he was protected in the brand-new T-53a Power Armor, it didn't pay to be reckless, and if the new kid was going to be a permanent addition to his squad, she had to learn the planning phases. For 17-year-old Initiate Jane Nakamura, this was her first field operation. She had scored exceptionally high on the B&E portion of the final test for recruits, that's "Break and Enter," so she had been assigned to his squad on a temporary basis with a possibility of a permanent assignment if she proved herself as determined by Star Paladin Thompson. Long story short, if she messed up once then it would be back to the ranks for her. Kyle had never had a temp fail yet, and he wasn't planning to start with this kid.

"Okay, so here's the layout: one door to the front, one from the shop, two windows flanking the front door, three along the side opposite the garage, and flimsy walls all around," started Tyson, the recon specialist. He had an uncanny knack for getting into places that he shouldn't be, one that he had used to the squad's advantage both in the field and at home. Really, how else was the squad going to be armed with the best weapons the Brotherhood had to offer? "They're posting two guards outside, guarding the door. One of them is armed with an R91 and the other's got a 10mm SMG. Their post gives them full view of everything for five hundred yards, and there's not much cover from that direction. The guards rotate every hour and one does a sweep of the backside every ten minutes. The backside is covered with a lot of loose rocks which won't exactly help with stealth. If we tried to make it up that side, they'd raise the alarm."

"What's so bad about an alarm? I thought raiders didn't have anything that could penetrate our armor," questioned Jane.

"Even raiders can get their hands on a Fat Man or Missile Launcher," said Kyle. "Trust me, I know. Proceed."

"Yes sir. One notable fact about the rotation of the guards: even though they are guarding the front door, when they change shifts they always enter and exit the side door. I believe that they may have booby-trapped the front door and are using the guards' position to fool any attackers into using that means of entry. That's all, sir."

"Good. Jane, how would you approach this?" The initiate looked nervous, like she would screw up. "It's okay, I won't let you make a mistake."

Jane started nervously. "Well, if the front door is booby-trapped then we would either need to use the side door or the windows. I remember that windows are never fun in Power Armor, so I would say that we should silently take out the guards and then use the door from the shop."

Kyle nodded. "Not bad, and I would have expected no less from a soldier of your caliber with your experience. Does anyone have any comments regarding this plan?"

Jared, the squad's first sniper, raised his hand. "It's nothing serious, but I got to wonder: how would you time this?"

Kyle looked at the younger soldier. Jane thought for a moment and said "I guess we would take out the guards after they make their last round and then head in when it's time for the shift to change. That way they'll be expecting someone to knock on the door."

Kyle smiled encouragingly and nodded. "Well done, Initiate. You recognized the problem with the obvious route, the front door, and proposed an alternate solution." It seemed as though a weight had been lifted from the younger soldier's shoulders. "Jared, take Karen and set up shop at maximum effective range on the front side. I'll trust your judgment on the exact location. Take the shot on their last look around the back." Jared and Karen nodded. Karen was an excellent shot with her sniper rifle and was the squad's second sniper, doubling as Jared's spotter when necessary. "Tyson, I want you to spot for them. Keep your eyes moving, and don't stare at the targets. Your job is to make sure that no one sneaks up on them from behind." Tyson opened his mouth to say something, but Kyle silenced him with a raised gauntlet. "I know that you want to be part of the action, but Jane needs to get her feet wet and this is the perfect time for her to do it." Tyson nodded, resigned to his temporary fate. "Jane, you, me, and Alex are going to be the first team in." Alex was their designated demolitions master, but he was also really good with the MB-2. "Leroy, Mike, and Juan are going to be the second team." Leroy was the squad's jack-of-all-trades, useful for everything. Mike was the tech master, capable of hacking anything with a lock or keyboard, and Juan was the medic. "Sniper team, get set-up; assault team, let's roll out."

The two snipers set up five hundred and fifty yards away from the guards on the crest of a small hill, covered with trees and a couple of burned-out cars. They left their scopes covered, not wanting to attract attention to the glare of the glass, laid out their mats, and played the waiting game.

The most boring thing about sniping is the waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting, all the time needing to watch to ensure that their spotter scope never left the target. Most of the time, if he was working in a team, Jared would compare the other's rifle and calculate which rifle would be more deadly with the exact load they were carrying against the exact opponent they were facing in the exact location that they were in.

Jared was carrying a silenced Anti-Material .50 caliber rifle loaded with lead-tipped sub-sonic hollow-point rounds. He calculated that, given the fact that he could hit the neck every single time and his chosen target was wearing no armor over that spot, it would stop the target cold in a matter of milliseconds, which was about enough time for the victim to register that he had been shot, but not enough for him to make a noise. Also, since the bullets were sub-sonic, there was a smaller chance of them going through the neck and hitting the wall beyond, alerting the raiders inside. Karen was packing a silenced .308 Sniper Rifle modeled after the rifle found by the Courier that was from the Gobi campaign. Loaded with the same sub-sonic ammo, albeit in a different caliber, the difference between the two guns essentially came down to the size of the bullet. The .308 was smaller, and so less effective against armored opponents, but usually more effective against un-armored enemies if it wasn't loaded with the sub-sonic rounds that would, if combined with a silencer, render the shot almost completely undetectable to the observer. Because both weapons were firing at sub-sonic levels, there was no difference in velocity and so the only factors that mattered were the punch of the bullet and the price for that momentum. Jared's rifle having a higher caliber, it obviously had more punch, but it came at the expense of an additional five caps per bullet. When facing a mostly unarmored opponent and aiming at the neck, even a simple .22 hollow-point bullet would be sufficient. All in all, Jared determined, to his disappointment, that his rifle was, though slightly more powerful, much less efficient, making Karen's rifle the better choice for the situation.

Kyle listened for the signal to go. Outside, he was a picture of calm, but inside his mind he was playing a furious mental game with himself. In order to keep himself sharp for anything that might happen, he would run through simulation after simulation of the operation, examining every possibility and determining a better course of action. Soon after completing the last simulation, one in which they had done everything right prior to opening the door and had to face fifteen Metal Blasters in the hands of heavily-armored raiders and determined that this would be a minor setback versus a catastrophic disturbance to the mission, otherwise known as "everybody dies," the report came in. "_Last scan, he's just leaving._" "Copy that, over watch. Ready your weapons for when he comes around but before he comes into sight of the other." "_Copy Bull 01, firing in thirty seconds._"

"Permission to speak sir?" asked Jane.

"Speak up, Initiate. And never ask for permission from me."

"Yes sir. I'm wondering, who's going in first?"

"I will. If there's a trap, I have the best armor to take it. You're third. You know what your role is?"

"Mop-up targets that you don't get. In other words, walk in with my gun on my back."

Kyle smiled. "We're good, but only Lyon's Pride's that good. Keep your gun in your hands," he said as he put his helmet on.

She gave him a half-grin as she slid her helmet into place. "Yes sir."

Kyle couldn't help but like the kid, but she still hadn't gotten her first kill. There was no telling what that could do to a person. Some withdrew into themselves for days, even weeks at a time, and then emerge a completely different person, usually quieter, almost intense. Others are a little shocked for a few minutes, have nightmares for a couple of nights, then learn how to deal with it and emerge with their personality mostly unchanged. Finally, some people actually find that they like it. In moderation, this can be a good thing. No hesitation to shoot, a boost of confidence, and increased adrenaline always help in that line of work as long as they can channel this new-found love towards the enemy. But, if it's a full-blown case of the "shoots," as it's known, most of the time the person has to be eliminated before they become a danger to others. Kyle had seen it happen a few times, and the results were never pretty.

"_Firing._" Kyle heard four soft _thunk_'s as the newly-made, headless cadavers hit the ground, following their bleeding heads. The assault team moved to the side door, keeping low beneath the windows.

At the prescribed time, Kyle knocked on the door. Nobody answered. He heard some talking inside. He knocked again. "Don't get your panties in a twist, I'll get the door," the soldiers heard from the inside. After a little rustling, the door opened and Kyle let loose with the B4-A, literally juicing the late Raider coming to relieve his late companion. Kyle stepped through the mass of blood, guts, and armor on the doorstep and went low to the left, picking off raiders with quick bursts of three shots, aided by the laser sight. Alex went high, cauterizing huge holes in Raiders and the walls behind them with his MB-2, usually just called the Metal Blaster. At a range of ten feet, the MB-2 fired in a semi-random circle about three feet wide, making it more than capable of crisping multiple raiders in one hit, as Alex demonstrated again, and again, and again, turning most of them into nothing more than glowing piles of ash on the floor.

Then Jane walked through the door. She pulled out her Laser Rifle that seemed to require two MFC's, one on each side, and took cover behind the counter. She made headshot after headshot, leaving the unfortunate Raiders still aiming with no heads to aim with. _What did she do to her gun?_ wondered Kyle, but it would have to wait.

Thankfully, it didn't have to wait too long.

Kyle looked at the clock on his HUD. The whole operation, from first entry to last kill, took 11.739 seconds. For an assault team of their caliber, this was better than acceptable.

Alex started picking up the Raiders' guns which included a couple of Laser Rifles, a B4-S belonging to a late BoS scout, and a plasma pistol.

Jane took off her helmet and shot a huge smile at her Paladin. "Can we do it again?"

_Yep, option number three for sure._ Kyle took off his helmet and matched her smile. A_nd definitely the good kind._ He pulled out the official Bull Squad stencil and his trusty spray gun. A total of seven of the 29 kills went to her. She needed to speed up her shooting, but had kept her head in the line of fire and done what needed to be done. In Kyle's book, she had definitely earned her spot in the squad. "Initiate, attention!" Jane snapped ramrod-straight, her T-51b Power Armor clanking as her legs came together and her hands locked in place at her sides. Two white Brahmin skulls made their way onto her left shoulder plate while her first chevron and official call number, 2-4, appeared on her right. He also sprayed seven small cross-hairs down the left side of her breast plate, one for each headshot kill. Initiate Jane Nakamura saluted Paladin Kyle Thompson, who returned her salute. "Welcome to Bull Squad, Knight Jane Nakamura."

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><p>PS: I'll just keep doing set-up until I get some input. And believe me, I have set-up that I can do. Honestly, I don't know how to make them meet or how to get the Spartans down to Earth without the Covenant finding out. Best idea right now: gravity. If you like the story so far, shoot me a message about it! :)<p>

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><p>PPS: It is 211, one day after I posted this, and the views have just shot through the roof. Thanks to everyone reading this, and hopefully I'll get a few followers soon. I'll be posting the next stall chapter some time between 7:00 and 9:00 PST on 2/14. That could be the last one before the worlds collide if I get some ideas to make this YOUR story, as advertised. If not, I have at least one more. I promise that I won't make these lame, but I can do set-up gun-fighting action all day long.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so it's not the day I advertised, but I've been really busy with scholarships and Eagle projects and homework and frankly, if you've ever been through Senior year on your way to college, you know exactly what I'm going through. Anyway, here's Brad and Boone!

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><p>Paladins Brad and Boone Thompson were pounding through the wastes looking for something to kill, their Power Armor the only sound in the quiet of the wasteland north of DC. Brad had shouldered his Gatling Laser for the more maneuverable Laser Rifle, which had been modified for better efficiency, burst-fire, and accuracy by his brother. As Knights, they were the lone survivors of a failed expedition to DC that had cost the Brotherhood fourteen Knights and four Paladins. Upon their return, having faced Deathclaws, Yao Guais, Raiders, leftover Super Mutants, and low batteries on their Power Armor, they were given the rank of Paladin and a permanent assignment: keep the wasteland free of trash.<p>

Basically, what their dad had loved doing the most.

Clint Thompson hadn't been a diplomat. At heart, he was a ranger who loved helping people and gutting animals. His definition of "animals" back in the Mojave had included Legionnaires, Fiends, Jackals, Vipers, and other assorted wildlife native to Nevada and California. Although he hadn't always been there for his sons, a fact which he frequently regretted, during his time with them he was able to share his love for the hunt.

And hunting is what Thompsons do best.

Boone had modified his helmet to allow him to hear much better while canceling out sounds like the _chink chink chink_ of Power Armor, while Brad tapped into his brother's ear pieces. Somewhere near a pre-war Power Plant, they heard voices.

"Hark, the Herald Angel sings," said Boone.

"Glory to the new-born King," agreed Brad. The lyrics to the pre-war song were their code for "I hear something," and "I hear it too," just in case the bad guys ever monitored radio. Most did.

Brad clipped his rifle to the left side of the pack on his back and unhooked the large Gatling Gun. Boone's Green Scream, his full-auto double-barrel Plasma Rifle, was already in his hands.

Boone used another feature he had built into his helmet to scan the plant. "Epsilon Tango, Code Delta. Position Epsilon." {Eight targets, guns but no lasers, plasma, explosives, or Power Armor. They're not patrolling or standing guard or paying too much attention.}

"Alpha or Omega?" {Kill first or ask questions first?}

"Omega." {Let's check before we splatter their brains.}

Keeping their guns at passive ready, or held across the body pointing away from the targets, the two Paladins advanced towards the strange group of people. When they came into visual range, Boone realized something: they weren't humans (not in the conventional sense, anyway). They were ghouls in ragged pre-war Combat Armor, Reinforced with R91 Assault Rifles, Combat Shotguns, and even two sniper rifles. When they saw the two humans, they stood, grabbing their rifles and pointing them at Brad and Boone. The only reason they survived that was because they didn't fire.

"Identify yourself!" one called in his raspy voice.

"I'm Boone, and this is Brad. Lower your weapons, we're not here to hurt you."

"Oh yeah? And why should I believe you, smoothskin? We've been shot at and run-off by every town in the United States for almost 250 years. We can barely find a place to sleep at night that won't get us killed. We haven't found a single man that can even look us in the eyes without crying 'zombie!' I'm finding it hard to believe that you can be any different."

"Well for starters, you're not dead yet," said Boone.

The ghoul appeared to consider this. "True."

"And because we haven't yelled 'zombie,'" added Brad. "Look, I can't begin to unravel 250 years of history between you and normal humans, but are we acting like the other smoothskins you're encountered?"

"Wait, you mean you're not going to try to kill us?" asked one of the others.

"No, we're not," replied Boone. "We're looking for _something_ to kill, but it's not you or any other non-feral ghoul."

At this, first one ghoul and then the others lowered their weapons. Then the first one who talked, apparently the leader, walked towards the Brotherhood soldiers. "Well, I suppose a more civilized introduction is called for after that." The ghoul straightened up and saluted, a crisp military salute. "Sergeant Jonathan Andrews, formerly US Army Special Forces, based in Sitka, Alaska at the time of the Great War." He gestured to the others. "These are my men, all first-class fighters, trained by the best and hardened by the wastes." He turned back to the brothers. "I apologize for drawing weapons on you earlier."

"No, we understand," said Brad. "We'd do the same thing in your position."

Boone nodded in confirmation. "Actually, there are a few ghouls and even Super Mutants serving in our ranks. They're not an uncommon sight around the Citadel."

"Citadel?" asked Sergeant Andrews.

"Yeah, you might remember it as the Pentagon."

A look of shock crossed the ghoul's face. "W-what? The Pentagon fell?!"

Brad cocked his head. "Dude, how long have you been out of it? It fell 250 years ago."

"No, that can't be. We just heard in Los Angeles that the United States was being restored in DC. The Pentagon was the seat of American military power. What happened?"

"The happenings you're talking about happened fifty years ago. The Enclave tried to restore the United States government, but they were stopped by one man."

"One man stopped the United States… that's impossible! The United States was the most powerful country in the world."

Boone laughed. "Yeah, the operative word being 'was.' Actually, the Enclave turned into more of a genocidal campaign against Wastelanders because they thought that only 'pure' humans were really worthy of citizenship."

"That's not the America I remember."

Boone shook his head. "No, probably not. I hear about it all the time, how old America had a Constitution, Bill of Rights, democracy, all that, but the Enclave wasn't interested in that. They just wanted to rule everyone. Anyone who got in their way was killed."

The old American ghoul slumped his shoulders at the news, but then he straightened up with a quizzical look in his eyes. "Wait a minute, if the United States is gone, then who are you?"

Boone looked at his brother, silently asking if his brother knew what Andrews meant. Brad shrugged and shook his head. Boone looked back at Andrews. "What do you mean?"

"I know Power Armor when I see it. I saw it when it first came out in the war, and I'm seeing it on you now. I know you can't just pick it up and wear it. Who taught you?"

"Well," Boone said, "the Brotherhood of Steel, our faction, was originally a US Army Power Armor detachment at Fort Mariposa in California. Over the years, we've migrated out here and developed new kinds of Power Armor."

"And how are you different from the Enclave?"

Boone answered. "The Brotherhood was founded just before the bombs dropped. It was discovered that the American government had been experimenting on prisoners of war, turning them into horrible monsters, so you might say that about two hundred and fifty Power Armor troops quit the Army for reasons of conscience. They sent an official letter to the government pulling Fort Mariposa out of the United States and everything. The government might have responded had the bombs not dropped the next day.

"Fort Mariposa was a military research base, so it was shielded from radiation and other nasty side-effects of the bombing. After the bombing stopped, the Brotherhood, as they called themselves, traveled to a bunker in the hills with their wives and children, using their Power Armor and other protective gear to shield themselves from the radiation. After some disputes with the NCR about how to use technology and what kind of technology should be collected, they left California and traveled to the Mojave Wasteland near where New Vegas used to be, where our dad encountered them.

"Our dad recruited them into joining the NCR in pushing Caesar's Legion out of New Vegas before assisting them in ridding the Mojave of the NCR as well, and after that one of their members joined him in ridding the Wasteland of raiders, slavers, and generally anyone who made a habit of mischief. After a few years, someone set off a nuke in the middle of New Vegas and destroyed everything. That's when our dad, the Western Brotherhood, and a few others left the Mojave to join the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood over here in the Capitol that had been sent over about fifty years prior. Originally, the East Coast Chapter had just wanted to grab technology and go home, but they decided to stay and help the local people with their Super Mutant problem. That is exactly why we're different from them. We help, not conquer."

The ghoulified soldier looked thoughtful, but before he could speak, they heard someone yell "Kill the zombies and cook the cans!" They turned to see a group of about fifteen Enclave Hellfire troopers.

_Enclave?! They're alive?!_ thought Boone as he pulled the Green Scream to his shoulder. "_I'll_ cook your genocidal ass! Suck my plasma cannon!" Boone depressed the trigger, and a torrent of plasma splashed against the first trooper, melting through his armor and leaving gaping black holes in his chest…

… except it didn't. The deadly blasts just splashed against his chest, leaving no marks whatsoever. The trooper laughed. "Hahahaha! You call that a Plasma Rifle? _This_ is a Plasma Rifle!" When he pulled his trigger, an electric blue (_Wait, blue?! It's supposed to be green!_) blast appeared and flew almost faster than the eye could see, melting Boone's helmet and incinerating his brains before exiting out the back…

… except it didn't. "W-wait, what!?" stammered the trooper. "Y-you're shielded too?!"

"I see now why your kind wasn't exactly known for brains. Of course I'm shielded, it's standard-issue you moron."

Upon hearing this, the Hellfire trooper lowered his super-powered Plasma Rifle in shock. "It would seem as though we've arrived at an impasse," said Brad. "It's obvious our weapons can't hurt you, and it's equally obvious that your weapons can't hurt us."

"We can still kill the shufflers! Let's do it!" One of the other troopers raised his rifle to obliterate Andrews, but then Boone stepped in the way.

"You know, until about five minutes ago these ghouls idolized you. This man is Sergeant Jonathan Andrews, formerly of the US Army Special Forces. And I doubt that he likes being called 'shuffler.'"

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"Better question: what are you going to do about it?"

"I'll give you 'shuffler'!" Andrews raised his rifle, but Brad pushed it down.

"Hey, we hate these guys more than you man, but there's nothing either of us can do about it right now, and we're not about to start wasting ammo on things we can't kill."

Boone nodded in agreement, then turned to the Hellfire troopers. "So, how about you? Call it a draw and save some ammo?"

"Not on your life," said the one who had been so intent on shooting Andrews. He pulled a Super Sledge off his back.

T-53a Power Armor can take a lot of beatings from ranged weapons, but one hit from a Super Sledge can dent it. Two can crack it. Three is a knock-out hit. "Oh shit, this guy is serious." Boone dropped his rifle and pressed his wrists together. Reinforced electrified Chinese Officer Swords shot out like twin switchblades. _All I need is one good shot at a limb and I can EMP that punk_. But before they could start, the Enclave leader said something.

"Trooper, hold up. Hey Brotherhood, can those swords penetrate our Power Armor?"

"Actually they're designed to cripple it, and they were effective against the last Hellfire armor we had access to."

"In that case, I'll make you a deal. We're both civilized soldiers, aren't we? Since we can't shoot our way through this, we'll decide the winner in a one-on-one melee battle to the death. Hothead's our best so I'll let him do our fighting, and since you're the one who accepted his challenge you do the fighting for yourselves and the ghouls. If you win, we leave, taking only his body. If we win, we take you prisoner."

"How is that fair?" shouted Brad.

"It's fair because we out-number you. We could just over-power you in a melee battle and take you all prisoner, but I'm in the mood for a fair fight."

"I accept," said Boone. "Draw the square."

The Enclave troopers started laughing. "What's so funny?" asked Brad.

"I said I was in the mood for a fair fight, not a wrestling match!" answered their leader when he could catch a breath. "This fight will be hunter-killer."

"What's hunter-killer?" asked Boone.

"Hunter-killer is a game we play to keep our stalking skills up to par. First, we need a building with multiple stories. In the training version, the objective is for the soldier on the higher level to sneak past the soldier coming up and reach the front door without being seen. In the version that you're about to play, the soldier at the bottom needs to hunt the soldier at the top, while the soldier at the top needs to kill the soldier at the bottom first. Hunter-killer, see? The winner needs to cut off the other's head and bring it out for verification to prove that he didn't cheat."

Sergeant Andrews looked horrified. "I thought you said you were civilized. That's barbaric!"

The Enclave trooper chucked. "That's real rich coming from you, corpse."

Boone held him back. "Are there any other rules?"

The trooper nodded. "Yep. Both soldiers' load-outs need to be checked and approved by both sides and the building needs to be scoured for additional weapons and ammunition. Also, the soldier at the top is the only one who can know how the building is laid-out, since he's the one being hunted."

"What weapons can I bring?"

"Usually we allow anything unless it's an explosive, but for this round we'll only allow melee weapons." He chuckled. "Wouldn't be much good bringing anything else in, anyway, since all armors are allowed. I will need to make sure that you aren't packing any hidden guns in those gauntlets of yours, and if you are I'll need you to unload them. I'll expect no less of you."

Boone nodded. "Very well, I agree to your conditions. Shall we choose this old power plant here?"

"Not enough levels. We need something bigger." He cast his eyes over the landscape. "Look almost directly north-west of here. Do you see that office tower?" Boone looked, and sure enough he did see a three-story office tower just sitting in the middle of the wastes.

"I see it."

"We'll go there. No offense, but I'll need you to take your helmets off for this. I don't want you calling for help."

"No offense to you, but we don't trust you either," said Boone. "As soon as we take our helmets off you'll just shoot us."

"I suppose it wouldn't help if I gave you my word?"

"Not really."

"Well, then how are we going to do this?"

"Simple," said Brad. "You take your helmets off too and walk in front of us."

"What, so you can shoot us?"

"No, because one of your men with his helmets _on_ and a raised plasma pistol would be behind _us_. If they shoot us, the rest of you die, but if we shoot you, we'll die."

"A giant game of chicken. I like it. I do reserve the right to keep my weapon in my hands."

"That's fine. If we can really trust you, we don't need to worry about it."

"And the ghouls?"

"Let 'em go, they're not part of this fight."

"I made them part of this fight."

Brad sighed. "Andrews?"

"We'll go since we don't have much of a choice, but we're not putting our weapons down."

Boone turned back to the trooper. "They'll walk with us, pistols only." Andrews started to protest, but Boone held up a hand to stop him. "It's the best we can do. We'll take good care of your rifles, I promise."

"Fine."

The ghouls handed their guns to the Brotherhood soldiers and pulled out their side arms. The Enclave officer, who turned out to be a Hispanic Captain, started walking, obviously nervous but somewhat assured by the presence of the trooper in full armor. Following him were the brothers Brad and Boone and eight ghouls, all with their weapons pointed at the backs of the Enclave troopers' heads. Following them was the insurance for everyone, one Enclave soldier in full gear with a plasma pistol pointed at the back of Brad's head, but not daring to shoot because Boone had his Green Scream pointed at the back of his CO's head.

In this manner they made their way for about a mile before reaching the office building, at which time it was with great relief that everyone re-armed themselves.

"Before we begin, I'm just wondering: how did you survive the extermination?"

"About fifty of us were stationed in a bunker far to the north of DC keeping an eye on New York. When we heard about the main unit, a detachment headed back to see if we could give some assistance, but all they managed to do was grab some armor and weapons off dead troopers and hurry back before they could be seen. Since then we've been re-building our numbers and investing heavily into research, trying to get an unbeatable technological edge on you. We thought it would be the shields, but I guess you also have them. It's a good thing that's not all we looked into."

"What else were you looking into?"

"I don't mind telling you how we survived, but anything beyond that is classified. Now, let's get started with that sweep. I'll send in one of my men and you," he indicated Brad, "to do the sweep. We only find out who's going to be on top right before we start."

"Very well." Brad left to clear the building with one of the Enclave soldiers. They returned about five minutes later carrying two large crates apiece.

"Sir, we found these in the lobby along with several others. We think someone's using this place as a depot."

"Recently, too," added Brad. He set his crates down and pointed at one. "That's the symbol of the Gun Runners. They only started marking their crates a few weeks ago."

"Hold on, I'm friends with a lot of the Gun Runners, and I heard that they've been having some thefts lately," said Boone. "This is probably where the thieves leave their stash."

"Well, they're out of commission now." The captain was silent for a few seconds, then spoke up. "Change of plans. Winner also takes the weapons."

"Deal," said Boone.

The Brad and the Enclave soldier spent several minutes hauling the crates out. Eventually, the stack numbered twenty-seven crates of weapons, armor, and ammunition. "So, who's starting a war?" asked the captain.

"No idea. We've never had anyone want to start anything lately, and this is all pretty serious stuff. Disintegrator rifles, plasma grenades, Power Armor… they knew where to hit, all right," said Boone.

"Well, they're done hitting for now. The sweep's done, Sir," said the Enclave trooper.

The captain nodded. "Then let the games begin."

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><p>Okay, so I finally got a review and I'm up to five followers. That's officially one more than "Searching for an Identity" ever got, so I must be doing something right. Thanks to "Guest" for a review and nice compliment. Now if only you could get me some ideas about how the two worlds should meet...<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, sorry about that mild cliff-hanger. I really don't like those myself, but they're useful if you update frequently, like I do. The only thing I'm going to say about this chapter is that when you see "* * *", it means that I'm switching the POV. Without further ado, here's Chapter 5!

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><p>The Enclave captain told me and the trooper to stand in front of him. "As the challenged, you will call it." He pulled out a pre-war coin. He showed one side with a head on it. "This is heads, and this" he flipped it over "is tails. I'll flip it into the air, and you call either heads or tails. The side it shows when it lands is the side that matters. If you call it right, you choose whether you want to be the hunter or killer. Got it?"<p>

I nodded. "Yeah, simple enough."

The captain flipped the coin in the air. "Heads." It landed on the ground with the head facing up. _If I can see the layout, I'll be able to see ambush points that he won't know about. The hunter may start at the bottom so he can hear the killer above him, but if I don't move then I'll be able to take away his usual advantage. On the other hand, I have scanning equipment in my helmet. I'll know exactly where he is and he'll have no idea where I am. _"I'll be 'hunter.'"

"All right, Hothead, you're 'killer.'" The captain pointed at Brad. "Brotherhood, inspect his load-out." My brother combed over every inch of the trooper's armor, checking and double-checking everything. He pressed every part of every plate to make sure that there were no secret buttons, finding two. One was for a Power Fist that the Hellfire trooper had built into his right foot, presumably to power up his kicks, and the other was a shotgun hidden in his left gauntlet. Brad unloaded the gun.

"Take off your helmet," he said to the other man. He did, revealing a scarred Chinese face with only the left eye. Brad combed over every niche of the helmet, finding a laser assembly built into the right eye socket. "Remove this," he told the trooper. He didn't look too happy about it, but he did as he was asked. After a little more searching, Brad saw something else. "There's a heartbeat sensor in here. I'm not going to object to it, but I feel that it is only fair that Boone knows about it."

"Acknowledged," said the captain.

I thanked Brad for giving me a heads-up, then he went back to his searching. Upon further inspection, he noticed infrared-vision, night-vision, and electromagnetic-vision. He notified me of them, and gave the helmet back to the trooper.

"I'm satisfied. Boone, good luck." I nodded my thanks to my brother for being so thorough.

"Now I'll check your armor," said the captain.

"Before you begin, I'll tell you where the big weapons are. You already saw how I activate my swords. Would you have seen that if I didn't show you?"

He tilted his head. "I guess not."

I smiled, even though he couldn't see me. "Well, there are some particularly dangerous weapons in here that could seriously hurt you if you accidently activated them. First off: my mini-nuke launcher." I blinked twice at the icon on the HUD of my helmet. The small battery back on my back moved to my right as my suit switched to auxiliary power. The pack extended backwards on hydraulic jacks, revealing dual launching assemblies loaded with two mini-nukes. The captain removed them and put them on the ground. I retracted the launchers. "Next, a little something I like to call the HDML, or Handy-Dandy Missile Launcher." I blinked at the symbol for the HDML and my left gauntlet spiraled outward to reveal eight small missiles concealed in the left gauntlet, specifically made for me by the Gun Runners. "The four red-tipped ones are loaded with incendiary rounds, the two yellow-tipped ones are EMPs, and the two green-tipped ones are loaded with nerve gas." The Enclave officer removed all eight.

"If you had all this ordinance, why didn't you fire on us?"

"Because in all of the battles between us and you, neither side has ever used nukes and the missiles are made for anti-personnel, not anti-armor. Call it professional courtesy and a desire to maintain the unofficial truce on nukes."

He tilted his head. "What about Liberty Prime? I read the reports that made it back to use about that thing. It used mini-nukes."

Brad spoke up. "Liberty Prime was loaded with powerful missiles, but they were non-nuclear. Think of them as five missiles combined with an EMP grenade."

He nodded. "I can't confirm that story, but until I can, I'll accept it."

After making the missile launchers spiral back into the gauntlet, I activated my electro-blades. "You already know about these." The Captain nodded for me to proceed. I retracted my blades and showed him the sixteen combat knives I keep hidden on my armor. Two in the boots, two just below the knees, two at my waist, two at my chest, two in my back plate, two on the sides of my helmet, two on my lower arms, and two on my upper arms. Regardless of what position I'm in or what arm is disabled, I can reach one in milliseconds. I couldn't see his face, but I could imagine it. His mouth's hanging open, his eyes are bugging out of his skull… I really wished that I could see it. After a few moments, he nodded. "That's it, feel free to check."

And check he did. By the time he was done, there was not a single crevice he had not prodded, a single plate he had not checked behind, or a single inch of metal he had not checked to make sure that it was just an inch of metal. "I'm still sure he has something in there, but I'm pretty satisfied." _Well, you just got fooled. You missed the scanning equipment between the real inside of my helmet and the outside of it._ "Hothead, it's been a pleasure serving with you."

"Oh, don't get all mushy. You know I kill people like that."

"Well, considering that no one chooses to be hunter unless he knows something I don't, consider it a warning. Now get your metal rear in gear, you have five minutes to check out that building."

"Yes sir." The trooper picked up his Super Sledge and clanked off toward the building. I sat down on a convenient bench.

Brad looked at me. "No sense wasting energy standing up. I'll need all of it soon, brother."

The captain turned and looked at me. "Brother?"

"Yeah, he's my brother."

"You mean blood brother or brother-in-arms?"

"Both," we replied together.

The captain looked down, then back up to me. "I lost my brother in the fight against Liberty Prime." He turned to Brad. "It doesn't make me any less willing to kill you, but I know what you're about to go through."

Brad took off his helmet and looked the captain in the eye. _Please don't say anything stupid!_ "I hate to disappoint you, but I don't think I'll have to feel go through that experience for a long, long time."

He replaced his helmet, as I got up and walked over to him. I put a hand on his shoulder to say "Thanks for not saying anything stupid" and "I'm glad to know you got my back" and "Thanks for the reassurance" all at the same time.

"We'll see," the captain replied.

We waited the remainder of the five minutes in silence. One of the troopers looked up from his wrist.

"It's time, sir."

"Very well. Brotherhood, I wish you luck, not because I want you to survive, but because you'll need every scrap of luck that you can get to make it past Hothead. He's our best infiltration expert, and is equipped with Stealth Boy technology built into his suit. No go have some fun."

_Screw you too, jackass._ I nodded and walked up to the door. I kicked it open and ducked behind the wall. A large metal beam that Hothead had strung up swung out and missed me by inches. "I think I will."

I walked into the killing house and shut the door. Despite my training, I was nervous. I could feel my heart beating in my head.

_Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . ._

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Then I turned on my scanner.

I turned my head from left to right on my floor, noting an elevator to the right side of the lobby and a stairway next to it. Behind the counter was a small hallway with three doors leading off of it to the back and two to the front. The two to the front were bathrooms, two to the rear lead to a conference room, and the third was a supply closet. _The stairs are probably booby-trapped. I'll need to take the elevator._ Slipping my gauntleted fingers into the crevice between the doors, I pulled them apart with a rusty shriek. _He might have heard that_. _I'll need to move fast._ I quickly checked where the elevator stopped, _Good, it's at the bottom of the shaft _and cut one of the cables. Looping it twice around my right hand, I pulled, letting my suit do the work. The cable held, and I went up the length on my arm. Winding another section around my left hand a few times, I let go with my right and pulled myself up another arm's length. Then, reaching up with my right hand, I looped the cable around it and pulled myself up another arm's length. I repeated the operation until I arrived at the top floor, being careful not to hit the sides of the shaft. I then activated my scanner again. Relative to the position from which I entered the office building, I was in the back-right corner. I swept my scan over the level. Just outside of the elevator door, I saw a de-activated Sentry Bot. _Sentry Bots carry explosives, ammo, and flamethrowers. I'll bet that I can find something in there. _Beyond the Sentry Bot was a hallway along the front of the building, leading to several offices set back from the walls. There were neither heat signatures nor radiation signatures characteristic of Stealth Boys in any of them, so I paid them no heed. I did make note of a pressure plate outside of one, which meant that there would be something just inside that I might be able to use. It could be anything from a shotgun to a grenade pineapple to a rigged generator. I tried to scan the inside of the room, but for some reason I couldn't penetrate the wall. _I know that I played by the rules, but I can't guarantee that he did. I really do need to be prepared for everything._ The hallway seemed to loop all the way around the building, with one deviation in the far corner: the boss's office, which was given two windows. I saw the characteristic heat signature of a human crouching next to the door. _A patient man, but he forgot that I can penetrate walls with my swords. One well-placed shot at his right arm will disable him. Now, what did he put down the other hallway…_ Down the other hallway, I saw a pile of office junk. Defunct computers, old desks, filing cabinets… you name it, it was piled there. _His play is to force me to go down the left hallway and trip the pressure plate. Failing that, he's ensured that if I walk through the door I'll be met with a Super Sledge to the face. So, I'll do just that, minus tripping the trap._

I activated my left sword and slid it through the crevice between the doors, top to bottom. _Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . . _The sharp blade cut through the rust with barely a sound. I retracted the sword and pulled the door open with my left hand, the ancient door squeaking on its rusty tracks and grinding against the gears that held it shut. There was just enough room for me to get through. I scanned the waiting soldier. _Either you don't know what to do or you didn't hear me. As far as I'm concerned, either's good._ I stepped out onto the floor and quietly searched the Sentry Bot for supplies. I found two missiles, some 5mm ammo, and two units of flamer fuel. I kept the missiles and loaded them into the missile launcher on my left arm. _Sure glad I ordered this thing with universal launchers as well as the eight I keep loaded. Now, how did the scan miss this thing, anyway? And why didn't Hothead grab this stuff…_ That's when I realized that a fully-loaded Sentry Bot carries _three_ missiles. This one's exterior was un-marred, except for the rust, dirt, and grime that seemed to accumulate on everything. _I doubt that it fired that missile. Hothead has it, and I think I know where it is._ I did an explosives residue scan of the hallway just outside of the trapped room. _Confirmed. A Sentry Bot missile is specifically designed to penetrate armor, and I don't really feel like trying my luck. So, I suppose the best course of action is to simply cut through the walls between me and him, avoiding that room altogether._ I proceeded to carry out my plan. The rotting wood gave little resistance before my swords, and I made sure to avoid electrical conduits and any rooms that I couldn't scan, all the while keeping tabs on my target. He was completely motionless; a true professional, waiting for his victim. _Well, there's a reason I'm called the hunter._ Finally, I was through to the last office between me and my prey.

_Ba-thump . . Ba-thump . . Ba-thump . ._ Instead of cutting through the wood, I just went through the open door, trying to keep my footsteps silent. I knew that he would know that I was coming with his heartbeat sensor, but he couldn't see that I already had my swords out. I saw the figure tense when he saw my heartbeat coming from the wrong direction, but then relax as I moved past the door. I took my position just on the other side of the wall to the left of the door and lifted my sword, ready to strike…

_Ba-thump . Ba-thump . Ba-thump ._

…and he stood up.

_BumpBumpBumpBumpBumpBumpBumpBump!_

Hothead shattered the door with his Power Fist on his foot, and continued into a sideways stride with the Super Sledge. Boone rolled forwards out of the way and let the weapon shatter the wall that he had been hiding behind just a moment before. He recovered, and tried an over-hand strike. The Brotherhood soldier rolled to the side, letting the sledge hit the floor, and then kicked out at the trooper's right foot making him fall, even though he somehow held onto the Super Sledge.

Boone raised my right blade and touched it to the other's right boot, sending an electric shock through the Enclave Power Armor, causing it to lose power for a few moments. Boone used those moments to take the sledge out of his enemy's hands and throw it down the hall with the trap, activating it.

Explosion… earthquake… light… strike…

Boone powered down his enemy's suit for a few more seconds, then ripped the Enclave soldier's helmet off. He activated his left blade and executed the Enclave soldier, cross-cut style.

_BumpBumpBaumpBathumpBathumpBa-thumpBa-thump . Ba-thump . . Ba-thump . . Ba-thump . . . Ba-Thump . . . Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . . _

As my pulse returned to normal, I became aware that I was kneeling on the man I had been hunting, and that there was a little more light than there was before. _Did that explosion… what the hell?_ I stared at the wall just outside of the office where the Sentry Bot's missile had been shot from. _No, correction: where the wall used to be._ Now, there was nothing. He could see clearly down to the floor below through the hole in the floor. Picking up my grisly prize, I hopped down to the floor below. I gave it a quick scan and found only a simple swing trap like the one that had greeted me on the way in. I disarmed it and made my way down the stairs, being extra careful to look for traps. Come to find out, there weren't any. I walked out the front door and…

"Put your hands up!"

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><p>It doesn't take much imagination to guess who said that, but here's the question of the day: who did he say it to? Next chapter will definitely be Halo, seeing as I've done three straight chapters on Fallout, but are they going to meet or am I going to do a flashback? A quick review on the subject would be greatly appreciated and really help this story along. See y'all in Chapter 6!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Yes, I know it's been a long time, but things are starting to quiet down now in my life and I'm going to be trying to get this thing back up to a chapter a week. Anything controversial will be covered at the end of this chapter. Trust me on this, this is where it starts heating up.

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Halls Between Slipspace Drive Control Room and Bridge

Location: En Route to Unknown Destination, Warp 328500

Last Known Vector: Earth

T+0:00

Maverick team felt the damaged drive activate. _Felt? That can't be right…_ thought Jerome. All of a sudden, the ship started shaking violently. So violently, he was thrown against the wall, his armor making a dent in the no-longer-smooth metal. Then, just as he was picking himself up, the ship slammed him into the other wall. He quickly activated the magnetic clamps on his boots. _That wasn't part of the plan._ "Hey guys, where in the plan does it say that they activate the drive and manage to get to slipspace?"

"It didn't," said John.

"C'mon man, I thought we destroyed that thing!" said Torres.

"Apparently not."

"You know you can lay off the dramatic badass act at any time, right?"

"Who's acting?"

The rest of Maverick team let that be the end of it as they made their way slowly but surely, bracing themselves against the movements of the ship. They passed a few bodies that had been literally shaken to death, thrown against the walls without the protection of the Spartans' magnetic clamps. _I've never been into slipspace on a Covenant ship before, but I doubt that this is typical of their jumps._ They passed a few Covenant soldiers who had managed to brace themselves against something, mostly Elites and Brutes with a few Skirmishers and Jackals thrown in for good measure. The Grunts were mostly just too small, but every now and then they passed one who had found a fortunate little cubby to cram itself into.

Naturally, their fortune ran out the second the Spartans noticed them. Defenseless, they were cut down with hand guns. Jerome almost felt sorry for the poor bastards.

Almost…

Finally, Maverick team reached the bridge. The rolling stopped as they neared the door. "Planting," said Torres. He functioned as their D&D man, or Demolitions and Destruction. He planted four charges on the door at weak points, then hit the detonator. The charges blasted the door inwards, and Maverick team leapt inside, weapon raised to kill any of those…

Where were "those"?

Save dead grunts, the entire bridge was empty. "What in hell?" asked Torres.

Then Jerome looked up. "Above!"

Six Zealot-class Elites with energy swords raised dropped onto the Spartans. "Keidae_!_" They shouted.

"Damn it!" shouted Master Chief. Jerome locked into battle with the first monster. He rolled beneath its feet, then pulled out his knife and swung it in a big circle, stabbing the Elite in the back. The Covenant warrior roared and turned around, swinging its sword in a wide, low arc, forcing Jerome to jump back. "Uuk kouenh keidae Sharhon. Dok Sangheilinen keidaeh!"

"Fuck you too." The larger alien charged at Jerome, drawing back its arm for a powerful swing. Jerome jumped up, activating his jetpack for a second to boost his jump, and came down behind the beast. He pulled out the plasma rifle that he had looted earlier and opened fire.

The Elite's shields flared and died, leaving it completely exposed. Just then, the weapons started to overheat. _Give me twenty-four hours with this thing and I could fix that problem._ Jerome had to let off his barrage, and the Elite turned. "Aga gaajayh, degag Sharhonen." Then, it hit a button on its wrist and vanished.

"Get back here coward!" he shouted, then Jerome looked around. Three other Elites were also vanishing, leaving their two fallen brothers where they lay.

"Keep your eyes open!" shouted John. Jerome switched to infrared vision, but just managed to catch the Elites disappearing through a side-passage.

"Watch that tunnel!" he shouted. "Who'd we lose?"

"Nick's gone," said the Chief. Nick was a rookie member of the squad and pretty good with a Battle Rifle, but he was weak for a Spartan. He was barely able to get through 20 reps of 50 bench presses with a tank. _Poor guy,_ thought Jerome. _I liked him, quiet and focused on the mission. Must have been taken by surprise._

"Hey guys, you might want to take a look at this," said Cass. Maverick squad walked over to where she was standing, looking out the viewport.

"What in hell?"

"Impossible…"

"Is that… Earth?"

"Oh God, what happened to it?"

The image they looked out upon was not the one they had last seen. There were no defensive emplacements, no MAC cannons waiting to blast any Covenant ships to smithereens… and no home fleet.

The surface was scarred, as if it had endured a massive, world-wide bombing. "Chief? Can Cortana tell us anything about this?"

John was silent for a second. "She says that in form, it is Earth. However, radiation levels are much higher than they should be. It seems to be concentrated into small pockets paralleling the location of the major cities. New York, Washington, Los Angeles, London, Paris, Beijing, Tokyo… they're all hot spots. What is more interesting, however, is Las Vegas."

"What's in Las Vegas?" asked Torres, wondering what could have happened to the city of his birth.

"Nothing. It's been leveled, and quite recently, too. The radiation levels suggest a nuclear bombing."

"A nuke? Why would _we_ fire on Las Vegas?" asked Torres.

"It's not one of our nukes. There is too much radiation. Our nukes only produce about 5% of that amount."

"So, it was a dirty nuke?" asked Cass.

"It would appear so." John sighed. "And there's something else."

"What?" asked Jerome and Cass at the same time.

"This isn't the year we left."

"How far did we go in the future?" asked Jerome.

"Not the future. This Earth is almost 100 years in the past."

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Main Hanger

Location: Near Unknown Planet Orbiting an Unknown Main Phase Yellow Sun, Probably Life-Sustaining

T+06:37

Thel 'Vadumee and his remaining soldiers gathered in the main hanger, salvaging what vehicles and equipment they could. "_Why did we run away from the demons?_" asked Rho 'Barutamee.

"_Because we would do our sword-brothers no good by dying ourselves. There is no honor in death when it might cause the deaths of many others. The remaining forces need leadership._"

"_I still don't like it. It seems cowardly._ _What was the purpose of that fight, anyway?_"

"_That fight was designed to give our sword-brothers more time to find their way here. Now, instead of one hundred Sangheili with no experienced leaders, there are five hundred Sangheili with leaders, and that does not take into account the seven hundred Jiralhanae that were saved in the process. We cannot engage in an all-out battle with those demons. Among their number I noticed the ones called Black Demon, whom I fought, and Green Demon, whom you fought. It is said that these two demons are invincible, and I do not much care to test the theory with so much on the line._"

"_Agreed, Arbiter._"

"_How many soldiers do we have?_"

"_At last count, there are approximately five hundred Sangheili, seven hundred Jiralhanae, ten Mgalekgolo, twelve hundred Kig-Yar, a few assorted Huragok, eleven hundred Yanme'e, and fifteen hundred Unggnoy._"

The Arbiter bowed his head. "_So I am left with five thousand troops of over two hundred thousand. That attack cost us 97.5% causalities._"

"_Yes, Arbiter. The damage to the ships was even more extensive. We are left with two Wraiths, fifteen Phantoms, about one hundred Ghosts, and forty Spectres. No Banshees, Cloaking Towers, or Scarabs survived._"

"_Then we'll have to ferry the troops in. Choose a landing site with few cities nearby. We will deploy the troops there, away from harm. We cannot afford to risk anyone. Send the Wraiths first to clear the area, and set up a ground base. We will see what manner of planet we have landed on when this is done._"

"_Yes, Arbiter._"

"_And by the Forerunners keep the demons occupied! Shut the doors, plant explosives, it matters not to me. We must have time to transport the troops to the surface._"

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Bridge

Location: Geosynchronous Orbit over Earth?

T+07:56

"Cortana tells me that the surviving Covenant forces are assembling in the main hanger. We need to get there five minutes ago and keep them from leaving this vessel!" shouted the Chief. Just then, the doors surrounding the bridge shut. "Cortana, open the doors!"

"_I'm sorry John, but they can only be opened through physical means. Apparently they were shut using the fail safe mechanical locks. Even I have no control over those._"

_They want to slow us down. Why?_ "Hey, this one's still open!" shouted Torres.

The Chief looked at the door that they had blasted through. _Is that the only way we're going to be able to get there? Re-tracing our steps until we get to the sub-hanger then fighting our way through to the main hanger?_

"Hey icy, you coming?" called Jerome.

_Sometimes I want to slap that kid. He survived one outright battle with the Covenant and now he's so cocky. I'll wait for him to get a few scars before I teach him how a Spartan's supposed to act. _"I better. If I didn't, you'd get killed."

They jogged back the way they came. Jerome grabbed a few more rounds for his newly-acquired Plasma Rifle. "Hold! Plasma mine!" shouted Torres.

"How many?" asked Cass.

"Looks like someone mined the whole hallway. Can't just shoot one and blow them all up, either. They're placed a good distance away from each other."

"Alternate routes?" asked Jerome.

"Negative," replied the Chief.

"In that case, I guess we'll just have to start shooting." Jerome pulled out his Plasma Rifle. "Save the useful ammo. I got this."

* * *

><p>Okay, so I couldn't resist taking over the Chief's persona for a little bit. I hope I did okay. Btw, I decided to build the story like this: you give me an idea, I'll do my best to work it in. I am no longer waiting for you to tell me how the story is supposed to progress. The Sangheili language is built from the cannon syllable arrangements and letters in the language. These pretty much boil down to the names of the species in Halo and a few heard words here and there. The grammar is a cypher of English. A cookie to the first person to translate it correctly, because I'm not supplying a translation. One last thing: follow, fav, and review! I don't want to be the guy who asks for them, but I really do want to know how my second fan-fic ever is going. Again, special chapter after 100 follows!<p>

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><p>Just passed one thousand views! Yeah! Thanks to everyone who reads me from everywhere (literally) in the world! I've had people from as far away as Iran and Hong Kong read this California boy's story, and that is not something that would have happened if it wasn't for FanFiction. And to you guys who follow this story but don't "follow" this story (you know, where you check up on it every now and then when you're looking for something interesting in the HaloFallout crossover section as I've been known to do), just click the button that says that you're following this story. Btw, I am one-tenth of the way to my hundred-follower mark. I'm not kidding about that special chapter. Neither am I kidding about cookies to the guy who translates the Sangheili language I attempted to write without any idea whatsoever of what it sounds like other than a low, warbling language that is a cypher of English and something about "wort wort wort" just being "go go go" recorded and played back backwards... hence why I refuse to use it...

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><p>I was just writing the next chapter when I realized that I made some serious math mistakes. First of all, the Arbiter did not start out with <em>fifty<em> thousand troops, he started out with _five_ thousand troops. In the next chapter you'll see how that gets divided several ways. I don't want to spoil too much, but have you ever noticed how the Grunts never do _anything_ other than act silly and run screaming? Well, they do a little of that, but this time, there's some intelligence behind it. Ladies and gentlemen, the next chapter has been unofficially named: "The First Time the Grunts Do Anything Mildly Intelligent". Don't like it? Oh, okay then. In that case I guess we'll just call it "Chapter 7".


	7. Chapter 7

Well, here it is. This is where the Covenant's plans go ka-plooy. I'm not going to be ruining anything yet, but suffice it to say that it's not going to have as many advantages as it once enjoyed.

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Starboard Storage Compartment J-714B

Location: Unknown

Direction: Unknown

Time: Unknown

Time passes slowly for those who must wait. I have waited for a long time. I have lost count of the time that I have had to wait for something, anything, to happen.

At times, I even wish that they would hurry up and find me.

The ship rocks, throwing me into crates and crates into me. I cannot stabilize myself. I am just another oddly-shaped crate among dozens in this tiny room.

I can wait this out. After all, I've waited for a long time now. I wish I knew what time it was, but a clock would give my position away. Those engineers can detect electricity. I learned that the hard way. They compromised my last hiding place. Luckily, the engineers that found me were the kind that like us and not the other kind, so they helped me to find this place. They come back every now and then to bring me food. This alien food is weird-tasting, but it helps me to keep up my strength.

This strength is strength I know I will need if I am ever to accomplish my mission.

Then an engineer comes in. _It's time_, it says in sign language.

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Main Hanger, Phantom-01

Location: Planet-Unknown, System-Unknown

Time: T+7:15

Sangheili Major Chol Vadumee watched his heavy assault squad load up into the first Phantom. The Arbiter walked by to check on their progress. Chol saluted his superior in the manner of the Covenant, right fist hitting the left side of his chest. The Arbiter returned the gesture. Even though they were from the same keep, it meant nothing in terms of rank advancement. Chol was only a passable fighter by Sangheili standards, which was why he was still only a Major.

His skill with tactics, on the other hand, had earned him a command, which _could_ be granted based on expertise. Most Sangheili Majors were, at best, commanders of lesser species. Very few were ever granted command of an assault squad made up primarily of Sangheili, and fewer still were allowed to bond with a pair of Magalekgolo. This was an honor for not only Chol, but the entire Vadum keep.

"_Arbiter, my squad is ready to secure the chosen landing site from any possible threats. We will not fail you._"

"_You never have, Major. If the ancient laws would allow it, you would be a fieldmaster by now. That is my only argument with the traditions of our forefathers._"

"_You honor me with your words, Arbiter. I will endeavor to live up to that standard._"

"_Go in the blessing of the Forerunners, Chol Vadumee. I shall be in the first Phantom._" The two Sangheili saluted each other again, then Thel left to attend to other matters. Chol's right-hand man, another Major named Noga Konaree, appeared to his right.

"_The Phantoms are loaded, Chol. We are ready to depart._"

"_Then let us depart._"

Chol and Noga entered the troop bay of the first Phantom. As the first flight of fifteen Phantoms lifted from the hanger, Chol looked back. He immediately keyed his com unit. "_Arbiter, do you see that?!_"

There was a demon in orange armor wielding a minigun in the main hanger, mowing down their army. "_I see it Chol. Tell the driver of your Phantom to…_" the com cut out in a burst of static.

"_Death and dishonor!_" What was the Arbiter telling him to do? Fight or run?

A half-second later, his question was answered as the original six demons broke through the last door. "_Major, what are your orders?_" asked the pilot.

For Chol, the choice was obvious. "_Leave them. There is nothing we can do to help them._"

"_Yes Major_." His decision was echoed by the other fourteen Phantoms leaving nearly fifty thousand soldiers to die at the hands of the demons.

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Main Hanger

Location: Orbiting Earth [ERROR], Sol System [ERROR]

Time: T+7:53

Jerome raced through the halls ahead of the others, taking out mine after mine after mine until the squad was one hallway from the main hanger. Torres planted the charges next to the door.

"Clear!" _BOOM_ And they were in.

The Spartans were met with a barrage of fire and immediately got to work. "Damn there's a lot of them!" said the Chief.

Jerome had switched to his MA37 and was concentrating on burst-firing on unshielded targets, namely grunts and Jackals. He took cover behind some crates when an all-too-familiar face started kneeling over him. "Mornin' Six, never thought you'd see me again, did you?"

"Jorge?!"

"In the flesh, bone, and metal. Y'know, I could really use some help, if you're not too busy catchin' flies."

Jerome smiled. "Never too busy to kill covies!" Jerome grabbed a needler rifle from a dead Jackal and started point-covering his old partner from Noble. "By the way, this is Maverick Squad. Maverick one is that silver and red girl over there," he marked her on the hud, "Maverick two is Zurick. He's our special-weapons guy. Don't ask me why he chose purple and gold for his armor colors, and don't ask him either." He proceeded to mark the different members of Maverick Squad on the hud with quick, practiced eye movements without slowing his shooting. "Maverick Three is Torres, aka Mr. Orange and Red with the Battle Rifle over there. Kevin is over there in the Green and Brown, designation Maverick Four."

"Good sniper," Jorge noted, as the sniper rifle looked like it was on full auto with nothing but head shots resulting from its barrage.

"One of the best I've ever seen," Jerome agreed.

"Who's the Spartan II over there with the MA37?" asked Jorge.

"Maverick Seven. You've probably heard of him."

"Really?"

"Yep, as long as you have a pulse and have been in the UNSC Spartan Corps. That's Master Chief Petty Officer John-117."

"Holy shit."

"That's exactly what I thought."

"So, where's Maverick Five and Six?"

"I'm still Six, and the Five slot is open, unfortunately."

"I think I could fill in."

"Damn straight you could," Cass cut in. "Welcome to Maverick Squad Jorge."

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><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Main Hanger

Location: Orbiting unknown planet in unknown solar system

Time: T+8:12

War Chieftain Megatum watched the Phantom drop ships disappear through the open hanger door, carrying the Sangheili war leaders. _They've left us to die! I knew they were cowards!_ He looked around at the army battling the demons. He grabbed the nearest Jiralhanae. "_Pull all the Jiralhanae back from the line of fire. Leave the Sangheili to continue the fight. Have them meet us by the drop pods._"

"_Yes, War Chieftain_."

Megatum went to the drop-pod hanger. Hundreds of drop-pods capable of transporting an army dozens of times larger than that which he had available to him lay in wait. _The Unggoy will take too much time to get down than we have. I'll have to leave them. The Kig-Yar on the other hand will serve well as scouts and ranged back-up_. Megatum returned to the battlefield, passing a few Jiralhanae on the way and assuring them that he would meet them shortly. When he got back to the battlefield, he grabbed the first Kig-Yar he could find. "_Tell the other Kig-Yar that they are to meet with us at the drop-pod hanger. Do not mention this to the Unggoy or the Sangheili_."

The Kig-Yar gave its version of a smile. "_Yes War Chieftain_."

It ran off to do his bidding, and Megatum returned to the drop-pod hanger.

"_War Chieftain_," said one of them, a Chieftain, "_why did you withdraw us?_"

"_The Sangheili have left us to die here. The Unggoy can hold the line long enough for us to drop to the surface with as many Kig-Yar as we can muster. We will reach the surface before the Sangheili. We will hunt the Sangheili to the last of them, and they will see who are the true leaders of the Covenant!_"

This was met with a roar of approval. The newly-arrived Kig-Yar were filled-in by their earlier brethren, and they joined in. They had always liked the Jiralhanae more than the Sangheili, and leaving the Unggoy to die was just the icing on the cake.

"_Take the choppers and load them into the pods. We will drop in three minutes. If you have living friends out there, now would be a good time to find them._"

The Jiralhanae roared their approval and the Kig-Yar joined them, as several of their number went to carry out his orders. The Brute Choppers were the favorites of their name-sakes, and they were well-liked by the Kig-Yar as well. The Sangheili hated them, and as such never counted them among their assets.

_This will be a hunt long-remembered,_ thought Megatum. _It will be the end of the Sangheili and their mis-guided reign over the Jiralhanae._

* * *

><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Main Hanger

Location: Looks like a good-sized planet with water on it, probably an oxygen-based atmosphere

Time: T+9:32

Kikim took cover behind a crate. Most Unggoy didn't do that, but you don't become an Ultra for nothing. As he surveyed the battlefield, he noticed that no one was taking command. _Where's the Sangheili and Jiralhanae? They should be leading… oh, right. The Sangheili left first to secure the landing spot. So, where's the… uh oh._ He activated his com unit and called another Ultra. "_Mlup, where is everybody?_"

A few seconds later, Mlup answered. "_I think they've… _[abandoned]_ us_."

{Author's note: when Covenant members are speaking and I delineate a word like that, it means that they're using the actual English word. If you doubt that grunts can learn English, check their entry on Halo Nation.}

The horrible realization sank in. The Unggoy were left to fend for themselves against demons. Then the celebration set in. He activated his species-wide channel. "_Attention everyone, they've abandoned us. We're free!_ _Grab the Ghosts and Spectres and get to the drop-pods. We'll take this planet as free Unggoy!_"

The chorus of cheers filled the air as over one thousand Unggoy sprinted for the vehicle storage area. About eight hundred made it through the door, leaving the Yanme'e to focus on the Demons all by themselves.

Two minutes of pulling and tugging later, the Ghosts and Spectres were loaded into the drop-pods, and eight hundred Unggoy departed for the surface, free at last.

* * *

><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Main Hanger

Location: Orbiting Earth [ERROR], Sol System [ERROR]

Time: T+10:42

The Spartans rested their weapons. After a seeming eternity of nothing but shooting, they took a look around at the carnage. Strangely, most of the carcasses weren't Grunts, as they had suspected they would be at the beginning. It was weird, but soon after the Brutes, Jackals, and Maulers disappeared from the battlefield, so did the Grunts in a mutual wave of panic. That left just the bugs to deal with, and they were very easily disposed of, as long as you could see them. Those cloaking devices were a real pain in the rear, and when you add the wings and ranged weapons, it just added up to one big swat-fest.

"Hey Chief, you ever seen this before?" asked Jerome.

"No, this is new to me. Cortana says that the timing between when the Grunts left and when their commanders left would mean only one thing. They're heading for Earth in waves, and they are separate factions now. Those Phantoms we saw leave only took three hundred and fifty Elites and Hunters and two Wraiths. After that, over fifteen hundred Brutes, Jackals, and Maulers realized that the Sangheili left them behind and took the opportunity to do the same. After the ranking members of the Covenant left, the Grunts just took the opportunity to leave as well. My guess? Everyone after the Elites took the drop pods and their favorite vehicles. That means that the Brutes took the Brute Choppers and the Grunts took the Ghosts and Spectres."

"Perfect. Just perfect," said Cass. "Now we have almost twenty-seven hundred Covenant soldiers on a virtually undefended planet Earth that has humans on it who are probably nowhere close to being as advanced as us, and _we're_ barely advanced enough to pose a threat to the Covenant!"

"Well, at least there's some good news," said Jerome. Everyone looked at him. "We're not dealing with a united Covenant. We're dealing with three factions that have different strengths and weaknesses. The Grunts have numbers and speed on their side with the small vehicles, but they're not used to being in charge of themselves. I'll bet that they'll make some costly decisions before this is over. Not to mention their equipment sucks by Covenant standards. The Brutes have the air support with the Choppers and excellent ground presence and they know how to command, but they have no movement options. The choppers are good for one person, but they can't move the amount of people that the others can. Even the Spectres can take two passengers besides the pilot and gunner. It fits with the Brutes' preferred method of fighting, which is 'hard in, stay in,' but it's not the best for the situation. The Elites have the best equipment for this situation and the best leadership, but they have no numbers. They don't have the resources to conduct any significant operations. They might be able to hold a city for a while, but eventually they'll just get worn down by attrition."

"So, what you're saying is that if we can link up with the humans that are still on the planet, we might have a chance?" asked Cass.

"Exactly. It'll be like the Grunts because of the high numbers and low quality of equipment, but at least we'll have some advantages that we can use."

"So, what you're proposing is guerilla warfare against three opponents at once with people who may not even be our allies at all?" asked John.

"Well, hell, this is what we came for, isn't it?" asked Zurich.

Everyone nodded in agreement. "Damn straight. Let's kill us some Covies."

Kevin's words echoed in the heart of every Spartan in the room. The Huragok who were left behind were content to just float, watch, and observe.

And start assembling some new Huragok from the massive amounts of biological material left in the main hanger.

And start divining ways to be able to record everything that was done on this planet. After all, a four-way smash-fest between the Humans, Sangheili, Jiralhanae, and Unggoy would be quite exciting to watch.

There may or may not have been some bets made with knowledge being the medium of payment, but they would never confirm or deny it.

They would also not confirm or deny that they placed the preliminary odds at 4:4:3:1 Humans:Sangheili:Jiralhanae:Unggoy, easily changeable if the Humans fragmented or certain factions joined forces or the surface Humans had a higher level of technology than originally anticipated or... well, anything.

* * *

><p>Okay, so I couldn't just leave the Engineers alone. They'll have their share of the fun. The big question is, who will have the last laugh and who will be royally screwed over? The numbers are cut down for the sake of evening the odds between the seriously under-advanced humans on the ground and the Covenant factions. If you're still wondering how they can be under-powered with all the boosts I gave them, see the calibers of their guns for details. The UNSC can barely get by when their elite troopers use 7.62mm ammo in their rifles, and most weapons are .50 caliber. Only the Anti-Material Rifle in Fallout: New Vegas is even close to that high in caliber, and they're not even close to the ROF of the semi-auto weapons the Spartans are packing. The Spartan Sniper Rifle is likely capable of punching right through the T-45d Power Armor, and definitely putting a good-sized dent in the T-51b, and even that just drains the Elites' shields. It doesn't kill them in one shot, and there is nothing on Earth that powerful in Fallout. This is still a really, really long shot for Earth. Send me your ideas for landing spots and possible battle scenes, and let's try to keep it North-Eastern United States in the states of Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Maryland, New Jersey, New York, and North Carolina. Sometimes I think it would just be easier on the map if every state was California-sized considering that that is still a relatively small area.<p>

One more thing, for those of you who are confused about the Covenant species' names and relationships, here it is.

Elites=Sangheili

Hunters=Magalekgolo

Brutes=Jiralhanae

Skirmishers/Jackals=Kig-Yar

Drones/Bugs/Buggers=Yanme'e (do not feature in the rest of this story)

Grunts=Unggoy

Engineers=Huragok

The Elites hate the Brutes because the Brutes want to take the Elites' places as protectors of the Prophets and masters of the ships.

The Brutes resent the Elites' power and prestige.

The Hunters only bond with Elites, something like a loyal attack dog...in an insanely powerful suit of power armor...carrying a giant freaking cannon...

The Grunts resent the Skirmishers/Jackals because they are a lower-caste species like themselves and tried to kill their species off on multiple occasions.

The Skirmishers/Jackals resent the Grunts because they feel that the Grunts should know their place as the only species lower than them on the Covenant food chain.

The Engineers are opposed to war and prefer to not pick a side at all. They have been known to help humans on occasion, including John-117.

For any further questions, comments, suggestions, or noticed mistakes, feel free to message me or review. Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

Hello to all of my loyal readers! Sorry about the long update, but this is the one that you've been waiting for. Ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise, I give you:

The Next Chapter

Okay, so I really need to work on catchy titles, but this is the really big chapter where we start to see some of the factions meet. That's all I'm going to give away right now, so just read on.

* * *

><p>Covenant Supercruiser <em>Long Night of Solace<em>: Main Hanger

Location: Orbiting Earth [ERROR], Sol System [ERROR]

Time: T+1:45:14

Maverick Team gathered in the eight semi-intact Banshees that had been scavenged from a large heap of twisted metal of what used to be Covenant vehicles. "Is everyone ready for this?" asked Jerome.

He got a chorus of affirmatives. "Torres, if you please," said Cass.

Torres selected a song that Jerome thought he recognized. "Torres, what is this song?"

"It's the theme song to _Top Gun_. Really old movie about jet pilots."

"Oh yeah, I remember that one from ancient history class."

"Are you done, ladies? I'd like to get a move on."

"I resemble that remark, Zurick," said Cass. "Now let's fly."

The Banshees lifted up and flew out of the hanger. The drop pods had already made it to the planet, so Maverick team focused on gunning the engines for D.C. Torres had picked a good song for this flight. It made Jerome want to start whipping his Banshee around like he was in a dog fight, and he indulged a little. The cool thing about space is that you can move sideways, up, and down without sacrificing forward momentum. He, Torres, and Jorge started spiraling their Banshees around Cass.

"Hey, cut it out guys!" She said over the coms. Instead, Zurick and Kevin joined in.

"Crazy bastards," Jerome heard John mutter under his breath.

"Hey, I resemble that remark!" exclaimed Torres.

The Banshees arrived in Earth's atmosphere barreling straight for D.C. "LZ?" asked Jorge.

"Cortana is picking up a lot of transmissions coming out of the Pentagon," said the Chief.

"To the Pentagon!" shouted Torres as the closely-packed group of alien fighters made their way to the ancient building.

It didn't take long in the atmosphere before the weak welds started to come apart.

* * *

><p>Sangheili Landing Zone<p>

Location: Southwest of Major Unknown Settlement

Time: T+1:49:01

Chol had been summoned to the Arbiter's command center. He arrived to find the senior officers already there standing around a holographic map of the surrounding area. After the landing zone had been secured, the Arbiter had given orders for a base of operations to be set up. The Phantoms had carried everything necessary to set up a fully-equipped base of operations complete with a cold fusion reactor, shade turrets, a vehicle repair station, and barracks large enough to hold thousands of troops. Everything, that is, except for the troops to set it up. Only five Engineers had been brought down from the _Long Night of Solace_, so work was progressing slowly. The Arbiter had employed his own warriors in the set-up of the command center and they were assisting the Engineers as best they could. If other species had been present, it would have been dishonorable for the Sangheili to engage in physical labor, but with no other species present, it was dishonorable for anyone to sit idly. The Arbiter himself had helped carry some of the larger equipment and put it into position, but now with the reactor, turrets, shield, and command center set-up and work on the barracks progressing quickly, the command staff could take the time to examine their situation. The Arbiter had lead two patrols at high-altitude to map the area and determine just what kind of situation they had found themselves thrust into.

Short on troops, the Arbiter was forced to make tough decisions.

Chol saluted, his fist hitting the left side of his chest. "_Arbiter, Major Chol Vadumee Reporting_."

The Arbiter returned the salute. "_At ease, Major. There is no need to be so formal in these situations,_" replied the Arbiter.

"_For what purpose was I requested, Arbiter?_"

"_Join us, and it will become apparent._"

Chol moved to an open spot between two Zealots. He Looked at the at the holographic map. His lower left mandible twitched in shock at what he saw before him. "_Arbiter, did we accidently land on a glass planet?_"

"_No._"

"_Then, what caused this?_"

"_It seems as though the humans glassed this planet._"

"_No, that's impossible. The humans do not have the technology._"

"_They do not need glassing technology. They have nuclear bombs._"

Then some of the formations on the map started to make sense, even as the Arbiter explained them. "_These are craters from explosives. There is a high concentration of radiation from their unholy weapons in each crater._"

"_Are we in danger? Is the radiation in the air?_"

"_No, it is concentrated in small pockets, and we are far from the nearest of those pockets. It is this area_," he motioned to a group of buildings to the north that looked like they could have been built by humans, "_that concerns me. I have seen the Jiralhanae and Kig-Yar gathering here. How they escaped the demons, I do not know._"

"_Then we must rescue them, for the manpower if nothing else._"

"_I sent an… _[emissary]_… as the humans say, to them. He was shot on sight._"

The shock settled into Chol's being. They had been betrayed. "_But the Kig-Yar…_"

"_He was shot by a Kig-Yar._"

Chol Vadumee became angry. "_The dishonorable Brutes! They will pay for this treachery!_"

Thel Vadumee did not correct the Major on his use of the Sangheili translation for the Human term for the Jiralhanae, usually considered profanity. "_This is why I sent for you. To the east, there is a large settlement of creatures who look like they might be able to help us. It is highly radioactive, but your shields should protect you. I need you to make contact with these creatures if they are sentient and recruit their help in taking our revenge._"

"_I will leave immediately, Arbiter._" Chol saluted and left the command center.

Chol gathered his assault squad and loaded one of the Phantoms. The drop ship took off for the settlement that the Arbiter had spotted.

On the way, Chol realized that the Arbiter had not told him what these creatures looked like or how many of them there would be or how they acted or how he was supposed to communicate with them. His universal translator could translate any known spoken language, but if they didn't use verbal communication, what then?

* * *

><p>Capital Wasteland<p>

Location: Citadel

05/12/2327 15:23 EST

"Are you sure?" asked Elder Lyons for the second time.

"Yes Elder, I'm sure," said Sara King. "The Think Tank is absolutely sure about this, and they're never sure about anything. An unidentified object entered our solar system a little less than two hours ago. It is larger than anything we have ever seen. Shortly after arrival, the object released fifteen ships that made their way under power to Earth and landed south-west of DC. Not three minutes later, a large cloud of large objects numbering in the hundreds was dispatched. They made their way to Earth under minimal control and landed north-west of DC, and due-north of the first group of objects. A short time later, an even larger cloud of smaller objects was dispatched from the large unknown object, landing in a scattering around south-east DC. This was confirmed by eye-witnesses who saw the two clouds entering the atmosphere and one of the fifteen small ships patrolling around the first group's LZ."

Elder Sara Lyons sighed. Just when you think everything's settling down, something new pops up. "Has anyone made contact with these aliens?"

"We think some from the third group have had contact with the rogue Super Mutants that are still holed up to the southeast. Our orbital reconnaissance shows them using plasma-based weaponry, so at least it's something we're familiar with."

With the fall of the Enclave, the Brotherhood had appropriated the links and codes to the pre-war satellites. Those that were still operational were re-tasked to give complete coverage, radio, visual, infrared, and anti-nuclear, of the capital wasteland 24/7. The cameras were good enough to be able to identify individuals, so taking several quick shots of a small group and then compiling them into a video was child's play. Identifying plasma-based weaponry from infrared scans was even easier.

"Have you called our 'friends'?"

"They can confirm that these are not the usual customers."

By "friends," Elder Lyons had meant the Brotherhood personnel manning the Zeta spacecraft. This was still a tightly-kept secret among the Brotherhood's highest echelons. Not the existence of aliens, of course, but the fact that they had control of one of their ships. The Brotherhood scientists had been able to reverse-engineer much of the aliens' weapon technology, but the rest was still a mystery.

"Have our 'friends' take a closer look at that new ship. See if they can find anything interesting."

"Yes, Elder Lyons.

As her top scientist walked out, Sara wondered just what kind of trouble the Capital Wasteland had gotten itself into now.

In any case, it was time to dust off the Power-Armor and give the cavalry a call.

* * *

><p>Capital Wasteland<p>

Location: South-Eastern DC, Just North of Rivet City

05/12/2327 15:27 EST

Kyle Thompson and his squad had just left Rivet City after a round of drinks. Brotherhood regulations specifically prohibited drunkenness, but none of the brass cared about having one drink. He called Nakamura over to him and gave her a small part. "This is an adjustable focus modulator. It goes on the front of your Laser Rifle and allows you to either narrow the beam down for sniping or widen it up for shotgunning."

"Wow, I've never heard of it."

"It's brand-new. They just developed it last week." Nakamura took her rifle off of her back and attached the modification to the front. She returned her rifle to her back and saluted her commanding officer.

"Thank you, sir."

"Put it to good use for me."

"I will, sir."

The Kyle heard a buzzing in his helmet. He put it on. It was a radio transmission. It was from Elder Lyons. "_Kyle Thompson, there are approximately fifteen unidentified targets moving out of the metro to your north. Get over there and stop them from getting to Rivet City_."

"Right away, Elder." He changed over to the squad frequency. "Okay people, there are fifteen unknowns getting out of that tunnel. We're going to walk over there and follow their lead."

He heard Tyson's voice. "So, point our guns at them and hope they shoot?"

"Something like that," agreed Kyle.

Bull Squad started for the metro exit. Kyle directed the others to pull over some rubble and make some cover. Jared and Karen took their positions behind the low concrete wall to the back of the Metro. When the unknowns came out, they would have a good angle of fire on them.

Bull Squad didn't have to wait long. Kyle heard a humming noise coming from the tunnel. "What is that?" asked Jane.

"That's trouble." The gates were melted by a single plasma blast. "Get down!" shouted Kyle.

Through the hole came fifteen small creatures that Kyle had never come across before. They had tanks on their backs and were carrying small, purple weapons that Kyle had never seen the likes of. The humming he had heard was coming from a hovering, purple vehicle. The creatures walked out in a line, and Kyle waited until the last one had come through the hole. As the first one spotted the first Knight, he heard Tyson say:

"Hello you mother-humping alien." Kyle heard a loud, wet _smack_ and saw the alien fly backwards into the vehicle. "We're so glad you could join us today." Alex stood up holding his Gauss gun. "The next time you decide to drop in, you should make reservations in order to prevent any unfortunate mis-understandings."

* * *

><p>Unknown Planet, Possibly a Former Human Colony<p>

Outside of a Dark, Scary Sentient-Built Tunnel

T+1:55:17

Mlup walked out of the tunnel, leading the others. They had landed far from the others, packed so tightly into their drop pod that he was sure that they could never fit even one more Plasma Pistol into the "Three-Person" drop pod that had carried fifteen and a Ghost. He saw a pile of rubble on top of the walkway in front of him. _Great. Just one more joy to top off this joy-fest. Walking corpses, giant rodents and insects_..._ What's next?_ His question was soon answered as he cleared the top of the walkway. He barely had time to register a large, metal machine. Then the machine said, in English: "Hello you mother-humping alien." Just before Mlup went flying backwards into the Ghost, he thought he felt the thing hit him with an iron bar. As he hit the Ghost, he heard the thing say: "We're so glad you could join us today." Then the thing stood up.

It was a Spartan in silver armor carrying a gun that was as big as the Fuel Rod Cannons that some of the other Elite Unggoy carried, but looked almost small in the demon's hands.

Then it spoke again. "The next time you decide to drop in, you should make reservations in order to prevent any unfortunate misunderstandings."

Mlup did what any sensible Unggoy would do in the situation.

He threw up his hands and ran for the tunnel, screaming his head off, only to be stopped short as two more silver Spartans dropped from the wall above the tunnel, armed with sniper rifles.

His training had never prepared him for a situation like this. So, his body reacted the way it always did for all Unggoy. He started running around the Ghost, screaming at the top his lungs again. He was soon joined by all of the other Unggoy, including the one piloting the Ghost.

He stopped short as he heard the first Spartan start making a noise that he had never heard a Spartan make before. It almost sounded like the noise that he had heard on recordings known as "laughter." As he looked over at the first silver man, he saw him shaking uncontrollably. This "laughter" was really something to be avoided, he noted. He decided to take the opportunity to try to run around him, but just as he cleared the ramp he was stopped by a _fourth_ Spartan. This Spartan pulled out a square rifle of a kind that Mlup had _never_ come across before and pointed it at his head. "Where do you think _you're_ going?" it asked in a female voice. As Mlup looked between her and the first Spartan, he noticed that Spartan #1's armor was… more advanced? Were there two generations of Spartans present?

Then he noticed that even the first Spartan's armor was different from the other Spartans he'd seen throughout his career. Less advanced, bigger, heavier… perhaps the correct word was "clunkier."

In any case, there was no way that he was going to get out of this alive, and the humans had been known to accept surrenders… on occasion… if it was a good day for them…

Mlup dropped his Plasma Rifle and put his hands up. The others followed suit. "Bull Squad, retrieve their weapons!" he heard a third voice shout. Then, five other Spartans that Mlup hadn't seen yet revealed themselves and picked up the dropped weapons. Mlup could identify some of their weapons as projectile-based, but there were several that he could not identify at all. On their shoulders they had some kind of insignia. The one who had the most insignia walked over to him and knelt down so he could look the four-foot Mlup in the eye. He took off his helmet, revealing a human face that was scarred from what appeared to be years of fighting. He looked up at the female Spartan. "Knight Nakamura, you may go. Tell the guys to secure the others well. They already know what I do to Knights who injure POWs."

He then looked at Mlup and sighed. "I guess it's too much to hope that you speak English, huh?"

"I speak little English," Mlup said in the language.

That seemed to shock the Spartan. "How do you know our language?"

"Radio transmissions. My kind trade languages. It is how we… waste time?"

"'Pass time,' I think is the saying you're looking for. It's not a 'waste' to learn languages. What are you doing on Earth?"

That didn't compute in Mlup's mind. "This not Earth. Earth green and blue. This brown."

That seemed to really confuse the Spartan. "It may have used to be that way hundreds of years ago, but it's brown now. Who are you?"

"My name Mlup."

"Mlup?"

"Yes, Mlup."

"Okay, I guess if that's your name that's your name. What species are you?"

Mlup frowned with the left side of his mouth in the Unggoy expression of uncertainty. "Humans call my kind 'Grunts.'"

Now the human looked really uncertain. "You've met humans before?"

The Unggoy gave his half-frown again. "You Spartan. You not heard of Grunts?"

The human gave the same expression as before by tightening up his eye brows. "Look, I've been fighting for twenty years, and I've never heard of 'Grunts,' never seen your weapons before, never heard of Spartans and never seen a vehicle nearly as advanced as yours."

That shocked the small alien. "You Spartan who not heard of Spartans? I not understand. You use Spartan weapons, you wear Spartan armor, and you fight like Spartans, but you not Spartans?"

"Whatever Spartans are, I can guarantee that we are not Spartans." Just then, the not-Spartan with the big gun showed up.

"Sir, the POWs are secure and their weapons are stowed. I'm just not sure how to fly that vehicle and I don't really want to leave it just hanging around."

That was when Mlup realized why humans laugh and what his equivalent was. He gave a high, warbling sound at the ridiculousness. "What are you laughing at?" asked the one in charge.

"Ghost easy to drive. Easier than human vehicle. I show you."

Mlup walked over to the Ghost and sat down. He pressed the "ON" button, and it floated above the ground. He grabbed the joy stick on the left side of the vehicle. He pushed it forward a little, and it went forward. He pushed it to the right, and it strafed right. He pushed it to the left, and it strafed left. He pulled it back, and it went back. He twisted it to the left and it rotated counterclockwise. He twisted it to the right and the vehicle rotated clockwise. His right hand grasped the hand-hold on the right side and pulled the trigger once Mlup had rotated to a safe direction. He pulled the hand-hold back and the guns tracked up. After that, he exited the Ghost and moved his head in a circle, the Unggoy version of a shrug. "That it."

"Why so simple?" asked the human with the big gun.

"It simple for Unggoy. We mostly bad with complicated things."

"Unggoy?" asked the leader.

"That what we call us. 'Unggoy.'"

* * *

><p>Unknown Former Human Colony<p>

Abandoned Human Settlement called _Wolf Trap_

T+2:04:18

The T'vaoan Murmillo squad readied their weapons. Jeg, armed with two Needlers , was the leader. The other two, Bug and Keg, each carried a Needle Rifle and their choice of sidearm. Bug favored the Plasma Pistol, and so carried two of them, and Keg favored the Needler, so he carried one of them. War Chieftain Megatum walked over to them. "_Do you understand your mission_?" he asked them.

"_Investigate the building, eliminate the occupants, report back to you on our findings._"

"_I'm glad we have an understanding. Good hunting._" Megatum walked away, and the Kig-Yar started off wordlessly.

They sprinted away from the camp at top-speed, jumping over small hills with ease. Their pack sense turned on, and they each became very attuned to the others. This connection was unknown to the humans, but it had served them well. They could see what the others saw, hear what the others heard, and feel what the others felt. They communicated by "nudges," or "hunches" as the humans would call it. One T'vaoan would get a hunch that he was straying off-course, and he would correct his course. Another would get a hunch that they were getting close, and he would pick up his pace. As they came in sight of the building, they hid behind rocks. They saw a lot of Spartans milling around the outside of the building.

They had strange weapons, but that wasn't too out of the ordinary. Spartans picked up weapons from everywhere, so it wasn't out of the question that they could have had contact with other aliens that the Covenant hadn't known about. Two of them seemed to be wearing different armor than the others, and there were a lot of wounded marines standing around as well. Bug and Keg readied their long-range weapons, but waited to watch their actions. After a while, one of the normal Spartans, in black, went inside, followed by one of the different Spartans in silver. When they came out, they were carrying two crates. When they opened the crates, it looked as though they were filled with weapons and armor. The two went back inside with more of the black Spartans. They returned carrying more crates, and went back inside for a third trip. After that trip, though, the two who had originally gone inside went back inside and were gone for a while. They returned empty-handed. The T'vaoan found this behavior intriguing, but they kept watching. As they watched, one of the black Spartans who had not gone inside and the other silver Spartan were searched and relieved of several weapons hidden on their persons. Then the searched black Spartan went inside.

After a few minutes, the searched silver Spartan went inside, avoiding a swinging trap just inside the door. Keg activated his x-ray vision, and while the other two watched the Spartans outside, he watched the ensuing hunt. The black Spartan had laid several traps, but the silver Spartan seemed to know exactly where they were and avoided all of them by climbing up the elevator shaft. Keg found this a very interesting behavior, and one that he would have expected from a member of his own species, not a Spartan. The silver Spartan exited the elevator on the top floor where the black Spartan was hiding. Keg saw the trap that the black Spartan had laid on the side of the building that was clear of debris. He knew that if the silver Spartan were to be shot by that missile, he would be killed. The silver Spartan hung at the top of the elevator shaft for a few minutes, turning his head back and forth.

_Scanning equipment. That's how he knew about all of the other traps._

The Spartan extended a sword of some kind from his right gauntlet and cut through the doors.

_Electrified swords that can cut through metal. If they can match a Sangheili blade, this could prove to be very useful if I can get my hands on them._

The silver Spartan climbed out of the shaft and searched the machine next to it. He removed two missiles and loaded them into a missile launcher on his left gauntlet.

_Missile launchers in the armor. This is equipment that I've never come across before._

He then activated his other sword and proceeded to cut through the walls between himself and his quarry. He avoided the room with the missile and stopped in the last room before the room where his opponent was hiding. Then the black Spartan stood up. It was carrying a weapon that appeared to be analogous to a Gravity Hammer.

_If we can obtain this weapon, perhaps Megatum will reward us._

The black Spartan shattered the door he was hiding behind with a super-powered kick and attempted to bring his hammer down on the silver Spartan through the wall.

_He has some kind of sensor equipment as well._

The silver Spartan rolled out the door. The black Spartan tried to hit the silver Spartan again with an over-hand strike, but the silver Spartan rolled again, causing the hammer to make a hole in the floor. Then the silver Spartan kicked the feet out from under the black Spartan, causing him to fall. He then touched his blade to the black Spartan's foot, which somehow caused the black Spartan to go limp.

_EMP swords? Will they short out our shields?_

The silver Spartan grabbed the hammer out of the black Spartan's hands and through it down the trapped hallway. It activated the trap, causing the missile to tear a hole in the wall and sending the hammer flying towards the hidden T'vaoan.

_Like a gift from the Forerunners_, thought Keg as he picked up the slightly-damaged hammer. He silently made his way to Jeg and placed the hammer on the other's back, then returned to his post. He had not been detected. As he resumed his observation, the silver Spartan had decapitated the black Spartan and was carrying the other's head as a trophy of a successful hunt. Then Keg got a hunch from the others who were stilling watching the Spartans on the ground. The silver one pointed to their position.

_We're compromised._

* * *

><p>Capital Wasteland<p>

Location: Abandoned Office Tower, North-West of DC

5/12/2327 16:04 EST

Brad hoisted his Gatling Laser as the members of the Enclave drew their weapons at the sight of the strange hostiles. He heard the chime in his helmet that told him that he had a call coming in, but he silenced it with a blink of his left eye at the appropriate optical receptor. He switched his vision to infrared and immediately picked out three non-human targets. He aimed at the one on the far left and opened fire. With surprising agility, all three jumped and drew their weapons. They let loose on the power-armored troops with a barrage of strange projectiles, none of which made it past their shields. They were extremely agile. Brad dropped his Gatling Laser and drew his Laser Rifle, but even that was too slow. Even when someone got close to scoring a hit, their shields blocked the blast. Seven Enclave troopers went down.

Then Boone showed up.

Boone dropped his prize from the hunt and drew his swords. One of the strange creatures tried to get close to him, but he swung his swords at the alien. When the alien tried to block the strike with glowing, purple shields, the swords cut right through, decapitating the alien. When the other two saw this, they fled, but not before the grabbed one of the crates of weapons. Brad tried to snipe them with his Laser Rifle, but they got away.

"Damn! What'd they get?" he asked whoever would listen.

The Enclave Captain shifted nervously. "They got the worst one for us."

"What do you mean?" asked Boone, who was re-arming his suit.

The Captain explained. "One of those crates contained Enclave equipment. Not the old stuff, but the new stuff. They got a full set of our armor and three Plasma Blasters with the ammo."

"Plasma Blasters are the blue shots, right?" asked Brad.

"Yeah, and the product of thirty years of research into Plasma technology. Combination shotgun and semi-auto assault rifle, they're the best weapon we've ever made. You can adjust them to fire a bigger shot at a shorter range."

Boone whistled. "Ouch, that's gotta hurt."

"I was only willing to put that crate on the line because you put so much of your stuff on the line. Now, they have our best equipment and can test their weapons against our shields before we fight again."

"They're not the only ones who have some new equipment to look into," said Brad. He pointed to the body of the alien. Its shields had re-charged. "We won the challenge, but he wasn't a part of it."

The power-armored troops, on both sides, shifted nervously. Then, Boone spoke up. "We won the challenge, and I took him down, so we get first pick between the weapons. There are two shields and plenty of armor to go around, so that's not an issue."

The Enclave officer nodded. "That's fair enough. Which do you want, the pistol or the rifle?"

Boone looked at the two. They both seemed to use the same technology, so the optics were the deciding factor. "We'll take the rifle." He collected the weapon and the shield on the creature's right arm, and a few other pieces of armor, including the breastplate, being sure to leave enough armor for the Enclave. If three of these things could take down seven fully-armored Enclave troops, he would almost prefer to give the Enclave all of the armor pieces, but he knew that the Brotherhood would never forgive him. As it was, he knew he was treading on treasonous grounds. The Enclave picked up their dead and walked away, leaving the two Brotherhood Paladins and their ghoulish charges.

The beeping in Brad's ear was more insistent, indicating a priority-one call. He answered it.

"_BRAD THOMPSON! The next time you get a call from me I expect it to be answered!_" Elder Lyons did not sound happy.

"I was occupied at the time your call came in."

"_By what?! Satellite imagery shows three targets to your west hiding in the rocks. Flush them out and…_"

"We've already met, Elder Lyons. They are what I was occupied with."

"_Oh_." The older woman paused. "_Are they friendly?_"

"_Negative. I just watched them take down almost half of an Enclave Hellfire squad before we drove them away._"

"_An Enclave… Paladin Thompson, get back to base yesterday. You have a report to give._"

"_Yes ma'am, but what about the loot and the ghouls?_"

"_What loot and what ghouls?_"

"Remember the reports of thieves hitting Gun Runner caravans? We found where they were hiding it. Twenty-six crates of goodies, all directly from our arsenals. The two aliens that got away made off with the twenty-seventh."

"And the ghouls?"

Brad looked over at the ghouls in question five had been cut down by the aliens. "Three pre-war, US Army Special Forces-trained ghouls. They really like us."

"_I'll send two Vertibirds out your way, but you have some explaining to do._"

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

><p>So, yeah. This is the longest chapter so far. The Grunts might be teaming up with the Humans of the Capital Wasteland, but I'm not sure about that. Please review. How am I doing? Where should I go with this? I have gotten little to no insight about this story, so I'm running blind.<p>

* * *

><p>It is currently about a month after I published this chapter and I am suffering from serious writer's block. Could someone give me something to break through the block? An idea? A fight? Anything? Please?<p> 


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